


Paradiso Sognato

by Darkbeetlebot



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Bi-Curiosity, Character Development, Comedy, Comfort, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Emotional Baggage, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Family, Family Bonding, Fluff, Games, Gay, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Light-Hearted, Love Confessions, Mild Sexual Content, Peace, Post-Rebellion Story, Rating May Change, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Stress Relief, Tags May Change, Therapy, Video & Computer Games, Warnings May Change, Yuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-04 13:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 71,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20471600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkbeetlebot/pseuds/Darkbeetlebot
Summary: [Post-Rebellion] A light and fluffy slice-of-life that takes place in Homura's new world, where she and everyone else just settle down and relax a little after an entire franchise of suffering.  No real over-arching story and sparse drama.This is just a stress-relief fic. Expect updates out of nowhere.Note: Rating is not representative of entire contents. Any chapters containing explicit material will be marked; all others are mostly safe.





	1. Friends, Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka wants to be friends, but Homura is hesitant. Despite that, she takes her to one of her favorite little places in the city.

Junko sits at the dining room table after dinner, sipping from a glass of whiskey as she listens to her daughter talk about her day. One or two things catch her attention, but she doesn't jump at it and instead takes her time with a moment of silence after taking a drink. Staring down at the melting ice and swirling her finger around the edge of the glass, she suggests, “Invite her out.”

“Eh?” Madoka grunts in mild confusion.

“Invite her out.” Junko repeats, takes a sip, and then elaborates. “She showed you around the school, singled you out among everyone else, and hugged you out of nowhere. She gave you those cute little ribbons, and called you pretty.” She takes another moment to drink, “It sounds to me like she wants to be friends, at least. What's the problem?”

“She just...scared me, is all.” Madoka admits, glancing away as she speaks.

Junko chuckles, “A pretty strong way to come on, isn't it?” She sighs, “I wonder why. Don't you?”

“Yeah. Wonder why...” Madoka trails off. After a minute of silent contemplation, she speaks back up, “She seemed really strange at first. Like cool, but in a scary way. But when she was talking to me alone, I could tell that she has to actually be a really kind person...”

Junko glances up from her supposedly downtrodden state.

“...somehow.” Madoka finishes.

Junko can't help but giggle, “'Somehow'? Maybe you should start, there!”

Madoka gives a light blush, but smiles, “Mama, come on... How do I even do that?”

“Like I said,” Junko repeats “just ask her out, somewhere. Ask if she's busy. It's been a long time since we were around here, maybe she knows a few places. Have a good time, get to know each other. Then you'll know.”

Madoka sighs, “...Alright.” She jumps up out of her chair and stands up straight, “I'll have a good time with Homura, tomorrow!”

“That's my girl.” Junko encourages her. “Looks like that time in America really did boost your confidence. Now get to bed, you want to at your best if you're going to make a good first...er, second impression tomorrow!”

Madoka nods, her prior unsure frown having morphed into a full grin by now. She runs off to her room, pumping her fists and nearly tripping over a few still-packed boxes. It reminds her mother, “Oh, and don't worry about the rest of the boxes! Your father will get the rest of them!”

Of course, she's gone by now. Junko chuckles and shakes her head, “Just who did you get yourself involved with, now?”

* * *

“Hey” is the opener Madoka chooses as she walks up to Homura's desk in the far back of the class, right by the window. The Protagonist Seat, as she's heard it called. The Godly Seat. The Chosen One Seat. Point being, everyone wants it.

Homura barely even deigns to remove her gaze from the outside. Nay, she doesn't even hardly respond with more than a slight glance in Madoka's direction.

“Whatcha doing?” she tries to casually continue.

Homura sighs and closes her eyes, facing more towards her but with her face still buried in her hand.

Madoka tries a compliment, “...Your earring is pretty.”

Homura sighs even harder, but at least gives a barely audible, “Thank you.”

Madoka slowly inches towards her, bending over and crouching slightly so that she's just looking up at her, then asks in a near whisper, “What's wrong?”

Homura sighs _even harder_, but this time decide she's had enough and just stand up, slamming her palm into the desk in the process of rising. Exhaustedly, she sidles out of the seat and slides past Madoka while trailing her hand across her back. “Sorry.” she says as she passes.

Madoka stands up, having lost her conviction from earlier, entirely; now simply worried. But as Homura leaves the room and Madoka has no other course of action, she just sits in her own seat and waits for class to start.

And it does. And she doesn't come back. Role-call is made, and she's counted absent. Madoka silently curses herself: “If I hadn't done that, she wouldn't have left.” For the half the duration of the class, she's left with nothing more interesting to do than stare at the room's exit and wonder just where that girl went off to.

Eventually, the tension kills her a little too hard; she raises her hand and asks to go to the bathroom. The nervous fidgeting and foot tapping helped her case, but they would have probably let her go, anyways. She uses the opportunity to dash out the door and immediately start searching for the runaway.

The first place she checks is actually the bathroom. Madoka used to run off, here, when people bullied her in elementary. Sayaka always came to get her. Alas, Homura isn't here. No way she'd have the guts to use the boys' room, either, no matter how smart of an idea it would be.

The second place she checks is the library; a commonly stereotyped place for quieter people to retreat to when anxious or sad or...well, any emotion, really. But is she a bookworm? Really, any place that isn't a classroom right about now would be good for the quiet types. A library stops making sense right quick.

If she's not just quiet or a bookworm, then where? Was she caught skipping and sent to the principle? Did she feel sick and go to the nurse? No way to really check without getting them both in trouble in the process, and she isn't about to do that without a good reason.

Where do sad, quiet people go? Stairwells? She checks a few, but they don't turn up anything. She seemed to be looking out the window, so maybe she wanted to be outside? It would be hard to sneak outside without getting noticed, and the only other way is...

“The rooftop.” she finally concludes. It makes sense. Fresh air, nobody usually up there, silent and contemplative. But as she starts making her way towards the stairwell to the roof, another thought comes to her mind. What's she even doing up there? Just standing around? Reading? Anything else?

Naturally, the human mind extrapolates towards the darkest possible route. She remembers seeing a news story about a guy who jumped off the top of his high school to his death after having been bullied for his entire life, supposedly. She attaches this to the depressed look Homura gave her earlier, and promptly _sprints_ up the stairs as fast as her tiny legs can carry her.

“Oh my god...” she says as she runs “Don't, please don't, don't do it!” She starts to round the door, “No, no, no, no...” She throws the door open to find Homura standing right at the edge, hands clasped around the engravings of the several-meter-tall fencing, looking down at the city streets.

Madoka calms down pretty quickly, but still surprised to see that Homura doesn't seem to have noticed her dramatic entrance. She comes out slowly, allowing the doors to close behind her, then walks forward. Once she's just a few paces away, she asks, “What are you doing?”

Homura still won't look at her, but she at least answers, “...Just staring.” Albeit, vaguely.

Madoka lets out a sigh of relief, “Hey, class started a while ago.”

Homura remains silent, as if she doesn't particularly care.

Madoka takes another step closer, “...So what are you staring at?”

Homura is about to answer, but her mouth hangs open silently instead as she stops to think about it. Then, she diverts the question with her own, “Shouldn't you be _in_ class?”

“Shouldn't _you_?” Madoka shoots back.

Homura looks back down, rolling her eyes as she reluctantly answers, “The city. Whether night or day, isn't it beautiful?”

“Hmm...” Madoka hums, staring down with her. She isn't really pondering that idea, but rather what the other girl is thinking. She voices as much, “So what are you _really_ doing?”

“Thinking.” Homura answers, still vaguely.

“About...?”

“...Things.” Homura “answers” after some pause.

Madoka quietly groans and thinks to herself, “Seriously?” Unfortunately, Homura seems totally serious. And totally closed off, but that's apparent. With the option of small-talk somehow cut out like a piece of particularly well-adorned pie by a child, she decides to just skip straight to the question, “Are you bu---?”

Unfortunately, Homura cuts her off with a presumptive “Yes.”

Madoka, not content on giving up, just explains herself anyways, “...I was going to ask if you could show me someplace fun, after school.”

They're both silent for the next minute. But somehow, it's as if she can literally hear Homura thinking, given by the increased tension of the atmosphere. Maybe it's just her being nervous, though.

Eventually, Homura gives her both a groan and an answer, “Okay, fine. I know one place.” She just barely glances over at Madoka to get a face full of her absolutely beaming smile from hearing a single positive reinforcement, which inadvertently makes Homura almost smile as well. Of course, a battle-weary soldier like herself has the strength to resist such worldly vices.

“I'll see you after school, then! At my desk, okay?” Madoka gleefully tells her.

“Yes.”

“Alright!”

They stand there in silence, again, waiting for each other to start the goodbye process, but nothing quite happens.

Homura whips her head around and looks at her for once, “Don't you have a class to get back to? How did you even get up here?”

Madoka then realizes that she spent the past 15 minutes looking for the girl, then another 5 talking. 15 is already pushing it for a bathroom break, but 20? Might as well just kill her right now and call it a day.

“Oh no.” she says in the face of this strife.

“Better get going.” Homura suggests, which Madoka takes wholeheartedly and darts for the door in the hopes that the teacher won't yell at her. Or that she has to actually use the bathroom, after all.

* * *

And just as promised (but not really), Homura reluctantly shows up beside Madoka's desk just as the bell rings, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Ah!” Madoka jumps, standing immediately and looking behind her at Homura's completely unaffected expression.

“Are you ready?” Homura asks, voice so soft that it's barely audible among the crowd of students hurrying to leave. Yet, her eyes reveal little other than indifference.

Madoka nods, “Just let me put this up, and...” she shoves a notepad she was doodling in, into her bag, then slings it over her shoulder “...done! Where are we going?”

“A surprise.” Homura says as she slowly walks on past, expecting Madoka to follow.

Madoka cocks her head to the side and tries to ask, but realizes soon before that it would probably be fruitless, with how cryptic Homura has been so far. So she follows just a step or two behind, loyally, looking side to side idly as she's led through the school's halls, out to the front gate, and along the streets of the city.

As they stray from the rest of the home-bound students and enter the downtown area, Madoka quickly becomes keen on not getting separated; she holds onto Homura's arm with both hands. Homura twitches suddenly, almost coming to a stop as she lets out an inaudible gasp.

“Homura? You okay?” Madoka asks.

Homura mentally shakes her head and continues walking, “I'm fine.” There's a slight waver in her voice, but not so much that Madoka would notice under ideal circumstances. Nor can she see her face.

“Here.” Homura says as they round a corner a minute or two later, to some discreet-looking building with a mostly vacant outdoor dining area. The few tables and chairs strewn about are covered with ragged cushions; the umbrellas have holes torn in them.

Madoka gradually lets go as she examines the place, “It looks a little...run down. What is this?”

“Inside.” Homura says, somewhat commandingly.

Madoka quietly follows along as they both head in, where she's pleasantly surprised by a cool, well-furnished room resembling a bar. The pungent scent of ground coffee beans and pastries fills the area, hitting her like a brick the moment she steps in and the door closes, making the bell atop it ring. Very quietly, she can hear the sound of some classical tune Sayaka would know the name of, playing on a jukebox in the corner. They're the only two people there, besides the male barista and a couple of people playing Pool, nearby. The sounds of the billiard balls smacking against each other sometimes interrupts the contemplative atmosphere, but somehow doesn't clash at all.

There're no formalities. Homura goes up to the counter and takes a seat, orders straight black, and beckons Madoka to sit by her. She does.

“So you're a coffee person?” Madoka states the obvious.

Homura closes her eyes in lieu of rolling them, though she may have done that too. “You could say that.” she answers.

Madoka just smiles. She spins around a bit in her seat, gawking at the serene surroundings while the barista brings Homura a small cup of what is essentially concentrated bitterness. He turns to Madoka and asks, “And what about you?”

Madoka only notices he's talking to her when she spins around for the fourth time. “Me?” she asks. “I don't have any, uh...”

“Madoka,” Homura calls her attention “don't worry, it's on me.” She casually slides a menu over.

After glancing at it for a minute or two, Madoka jumps in her seat, “Ooh, they have hot chocolate, here!?”

The people at the pool table look up from their game and chuckle at her outburst. Homura shakes her head and has to force herself to not grin. She's failing miserably. “Madoka...” she says “...that's not coffee.”

“But I like it!” Madoka argues. Bit by bit, it becomes harder for Homura to not lose her composure as the others in the room have.

In the absence of her voice, the barista tells her, “No pressure, here. Plenty of people order the hot chocolate. It just so happens to be specially made.”

Madoka smiles up at him, nodding enthusiastically, her feet kicking the leg of the stool. He correctly takes this as a “yes” and gets to making it.

Meanwhile, Madoka thanks her, “Hey, Homura? Thanks. This place is really nice. Do you come here often?”

Never mind that the last part sounded like a cheesy pick-up line, Homura still can't quite get over how much she missed Madoka's casual childishness and innocence. Despite being about to break her so-far-stoic character, she answers, “I like peaceful places. Where I can be alone. This just happens to fit.” She takes a prolonged, antsy sip from her cup which makes a slurping sound.

By the time Homura looks back over, she notices that Madoka has laid her head on the counter, looking up at her. She finds herself staring back at her smiling face with a barely visible blush a mouth ajar with awe at her absolute charm. She almost smiles back.

Almost.

Instead, she looks away in an effort to save face, burying herself back into the hot, steamy bitterness of the cup. Madoka can't help but smile even wider, knowing that she got at least some sort of reaction, finally.

In no time at all, the barista brings back a nice, full mug of hot chocolate topped with a veritable mountain of whipped cream, melted chocolate on top, dozens of tiny marshmallows floating below it, a drizzle of caramel, and a cherry on top. Served with a tiny, silver spoon, of course.

Homura glances at it, then at her, and raises an eyebrow. Madoka looks at the mug, then at her, and at the mug again with the biggest anticipatory smile she can possibly muster. Not just a regular smile, but a toothy one. Excited in her seat, she claps a few times before taking the spoon and devouring a good portion of the chocolate-caramel-covered whipped cream. It assaults her with an unadulterared sweetness fit to make a child go on a rampage, enough to make her face curl up, and enough to make Homura wonder if it could give someone diabetes. If not that, then surely the way Madoka is non-verbally squealing in delight. Count her as a type-2, in that case.

She should look away to save herself the pain, but can't help but watch as Madoka takes the cherry and smothers it in just about every inch of the concoction that she can before eating it whole. Thankfully, there's no pit, but she probably would have eaten it anyways if there were. Not even ten seconds later, and she's scraped off almost all the dessert part of the drink, and now starts sipping from the unusually dark liquid.

“Hm?” she says, putting it down. “It's a bit...salty? Salty and sweet, and a little...bitter. What...?”

“Dark chocolate.” Homura explains. “They make it with dark chocolate.”

“Oooh!” Madoka coos, then decides to chug the entire cup despite how undeniably hot it is. Homura warns her about as much, but she decides to go on anyways.

Following suit, Homura finishes her much smaller cup and pushes it aside, asking as Madoka finishes, “...That hurt, didn't it?”

Madoka makes an anticipated grimace as she sets the cup down, “Y-Yeah...”

Homura sighs, “Honestly, don't drink it if it's scalding hot...” She reaches over and finds herself patting her head. Too to stop, it seems, as Madoka reacts with a surprising amount of acceptance. She turns slightly, leaning into it despite her embarrassed and disgruntled pout. “Was it good, at least?” Homura asks.

Madoka looks up from being patted, finding herself at a loss for words beyond “Yeah.” as she starts staring at Homura endearingly. Like a kitten, most certainly.

As soon as Homura notices, she stops and turns back around, “...Let's move over to the sofa, anyways.” She quickly dolls out the payment for both cups, stands, and drags Madoka along with her to a nearby booth with a sofa for seating. Against her better judgment, she drags Madoka onto the same side as her, then relaxes.

Madoka follows suit. Once in, she leans back into it like she would with the couch at home, sighing in the process as if she had just thrown off all of her stress.

“Like it?” Homura asks.

“Mhm.” Madoka hums, still reluctant to talk with a singed tongue.

“Good.” Homura says, her tone shifting as if a great weight had been lifted. Not just that, but her posture as well. She easily sinks in like melted butter, eyes closed and completely still. If not for her gentle breaths, one would be forgiven for thinking she's dead. Even Madoka figures that she just collapsed into sleep for some reason.

“Homura?” she asks in a whisper, giving the girl a nudge on the shoulder.

She opens her eyes and lazily looks to the side.

“Ah, you weren't asleep.” Madoka says.

“If only.” Homura says with a hint of disappointment.

“Trouble sleeping?” Madoka asks, looking worried.

“It's nothing.” Homura dismisses, looking away.

This only makes Madoka worry even more. A hundred questions run through her head at that moment, but the moment itself seems to take priority of them. And the moment calls for relaxation. A bit too much relaxation, as it happens; they both (or Madoka, at least) manage(s) to doze off for the next hour or so. By the time Homura wakes her up and tells her it's time to go, the sun has begun to set.

“Time to go already? But we just got here...” Madoka complains in her groggy state.

“Madoka, it's getting dark. You fell asleep.”

“Eh? How long?”

“An hour or so.”

“Oh...”

Homura rolls her eyes with a tiny smile, helps Madoka out of the booth, and out the door.

“We barely got to talk...” Madoka continues, clinging onto Homura like she can't walk.

Homura sighs heavily, “There's...always tomorrow.”

Madoka groans into her side.

Homura looks at her, then down at the ground, “Tomorrow...” She looks up at the orange sky, staring for a moment before repeating it, “Always tomorrow.”

“Hmm?” Madoka hums.

Homura dismisses her again, “It's nothing. Let's get you home, alright? Get some proper rest, there.”

And with that, she walks her all the way back to her house before night falls completely. In the end, Madoka completely forgets to ask for or even really say anything other than a standard “See you tomorrow”, or some such farewell. She goes inside to eat dinner and rest. Safely.

Homura goes back to her own home, a bleak little apartment, and fawns over a picture she took. Madoka leaning into her shoulder, asleep in the booth. Homura is looking up at the camera and smiling like an idiot.

Just like now, as she looks down upon it on her phone's tiny screen, then cradles it in her arms as she curls into a ball. Every night may be sleepless, but this could at least keep her company.


	2. See-Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka gets teased a lot, has a mysterious encounter with Homura during a storm, and receives two even more mysterious gifts in her locker.

“Madoka.” Sayaka calls out lazily, to her friend a seat over.

She doesn't respond, busy staring off into space and daydreaming about something.

“Heeey.” Sayaka continues, edging over closer.

Still, no reponse.

“Earth to Madoka.” she keeps prodding, but no cigar.

Finally, she tries poking her in the head, which snaps Madoka out of it with a standard “Eh?”

“Hey,” Sayaka asks “what's up? You've had your head in the clouds for the past few days. Come on, we haven't seen each other in _so long_! You _have_ to tell me what America was like!”

Madoka sighs, with a look of concern mixed with mild disappointment as she looks around the room and specifically glances at Homura, still sticking herself in that corner and looking out the window. The sound she makes when she looks at her sounds more like a swoon than a sigh, though.

Sayaka looks back at her as well, then at Madoka, “What, you're thinking about _her_?”

Madoka nods.

Sayaka rolls her eyes, “Come on, I'm your best friend! Your old chum! Your gal pal! Surely you still have time for me!”

“You're bored because Kyouko's asleep, aren't you?” Madoka points out, motioning towards Kyouko who is -- as she always is — face-down asleep on her desk.

Sayaka grimaces, “...Well, I gotta have someone to talk to, right? And besides, Hitomi is busy with uh...” She points her head towards the doorway, where the girl in question and Kyosuke are having a lovers' quarrel.

Madoka looks towards them with some intrigue, vaguely smiling, “Oh, right, they're together now. She's probably going to come over and start ranting, isn't she?”

“Damn straight.” Sayaka agrees. “More than a month it's been like this. Not my fault she picked captain oblivious for a boyfriend. Glad I dodged that bullet.”

Madoka hums along, staring at the two as they transition from bickering about something menial to apologizing, then making up with a heartwarming hug. She spends such focus on observing them that Sayaka decides to comment on it, “Hey, there you go again. Come on, just tell me what you're thinking about, already!” She ends with a hearty pat on the back.

Madoka can't help but grin as she shakes herself out of thought, “Okay, okay. I was just thinking...” her voice softens a bit as she looks up, eyes relaxing, “...about how nice it must be to have someone love you like that.”

Sayaka stops to think for a minute. Finally, she decides to tease, “...Want me to hook you up?”

Madoka half-grunt-half-sigh-all-scoffs at her — a sound that is the purest distillation of “Seriously?” she can possibly create. “_Sayaka_!” she whines. “Come on, be serious!”

“I am!” Sayaka argues, not helping herself with a massive grin on her face that just screams “April Fools”: a joke that Homura would hate if she heard it aloud.

Madoka repeats the previous noise, then explains, “No, no... I want it to be natural, you know? If you just throw someone at me, it won't feel..._special_. You know?”

“Special?” Sayaka questions.

“Yeah, special. Like it was meant to be.”

“Like those fairy tales you love so much?” Sayaka says, widening her grin even more if that's even possible.

“I'm serious!” Madoka whines again, nearly slamming her hands on her desk in frustration. “I just wish...” she trails off as she buries her face in her arms and bends over the desk.

“You're still jealous about how many love letters Hitomi used to get, aren't you?” Sayaka guesses, probably correctly.

“_Saaayaaakaaa_!” Madoka squeals in such a high pitch that the volume decreases.

Sayaka is about to start giggling herself into tears at how easy it is to tease her friend, when another voice suddenly joins the fray.

“I think that's enough.” a soft but commanding voice intones.

Sayaka whips her head around to face Homura, standing beside her desk with the most apathetic, tired expression she could have picked for this encounter. “Oh, it's the chuunibyou.” Sayaka says disappointedly.

Surprisingly, the insult doesn't faze Homura, who just glides on over to Madoka's desk and asks her, “Is she bothering you?”

“It's...” Madoka exhales her stress before continuing “...fine. It's okay, Sayaka's just being...Sayaka.”

Homura closes her eyes for a moment, then turns around and prepares to leave, “Very well.” As she passes by the other girl on the way back to her seat, she slights, “That doesn't bode well...”

Sayaka feels like she should be mad at that, but can't quite figure out what it means enough to find anything to get mad about. So she settles on her attitude, turning to Madoka once she's gone and whispering, “What's her problem?”

Madoka props her head up on her desk in thought, “That's what I was trying to figure out...”

Sayaka crosses her arms, looking disgruntled, “Well, don't bother. Look, I don't know what it is, but that girl just rubs me the wrong way.”

“Please don't start anything.” Madoka begs.

Sayaka gives a low grumble in response, followed by a quiet, “Fine...”

A short silence ensues, in which time Madoka has the time to remember what she planned to do, today. “Oh, I'm gonna...” she says, standing up, only for Saotome to waltz in and announce the start of the day. She has to sit back down, now more disgruntled than ever. The classes are extra long, that day.

* * *

Of course, it's just her luck that Homura darted at the end of the day, before she could even get a word in to her. _“Is she avoiding me?”_ she can't help but think to herself as she turns to leave. Her friends call out to her, but she can't hear them over the volume of her own thoughts, and they just assume she wants to be left alone. So, she is.

Down to the entrance, and it's raining again. Droplets pour down the streets, the glass entry doors only dry thanks to the awning above them. She didn't bring an umbrella. She was too excited this morning to check the forecast, and now this is payment. Cause and effect.

As everyone crowds out of the doors in a mob of colorful circles, as seen from above, she gently bangs her head against her locker for her stupidity. “Stupid, stupid...” she repeats to accentuate her own point to herself.

But it's only when she opens it to find a small, collapsible umbrella stuffed inside of it alongside her shoes. “Eh?” she gasps. “I didn't...” She takes it out: Tiny, just big enough for one person, colored pink, but it still looks fairly sturdy. The question that pops into her head most is, “Whose is this?” followed by “How did it get into my locker?”, ending in “Who has my combination!?” Among other questions, of course. But in dire times like these when a spare umbrella is a godsend, she decides to chock it up to either forgetfulness or an act of...well, god. Not that it would be too far-fetched.

It may just be the unbelievable luck playing tricks on her mind, but the walk home feels...different. Usually, a rainy day is depressing and messy, but this time it almost seems beautiful. Even among the dull colors of the city, at least the uncharacteristic lack of _things_ inhabiting the streets on the path make it peaceful. So much so that she manages to lose herself in the feeling of wandering about an ethereal world, getting lost in the process.

What she sees that snaps her back into reality isn't something like a huge truck driving past and splashing her, or someone bumping into her, or even loud music playing. Instead, she stumbles upon someone just walking in the rain, without protection. Upon closer inspection, she realizes...

“Homura?”

As if she could hear her over the rain and minor bustle, that tiny voice; Homura turns her head ever-so-slight behind her and tilts it back to stare directly at Madoka. She still has that unwavering poker face, completely oblivious to what happens to it. Water may be soaking it and running down in ways that would make any normal person flinch, but she just stands there unblinkingly, staring. For a moment, at least. Shortly, she turns back around and keeps walking. Slowly.

Madoka reaches out for her, “W-Wait! Homura!” She has an awkward time running up to her without getting herself wet, but Homura walks so slowly that it would be hard to _not_ catch up to her.

“What are you doing!?” Madoka yells in concern.

Homura barely reacts. She stops in place, but that's about it.

“You're going to catch a cold.” Madoka adds.

“I'll be fine.” Homura dismisses, beginning to walk away.

Madoka walks up to her again, “Hey, wait! Why are you just walking around like that? Do you not have an umbrella?”

Homura stops again. After a few seconds of silence, she answers, “The rain feels nice.”

“Eh?” Madoka grunts.

“Don't worry about me.” Homura says and continues walking.

Madoka groans in frustration, catching up with her again, “Hey, stop that! Come on, let's share. I'll walk you home.”

Homura doesn't bother to stop this time as she rebukes, “That thing is barely large enough for _you_. I would rather you stay dry than try to keep me from being even more soaked.”

Madoka looks down and pouts, even though Homura can't see it. “But...” she tries to argue.

“That's enough. I have something important to do; I'll see you tomorrow.” Homura says as she moves across an intersection.

Madoka finally stops, staring at the ground and contemplating how she wished that would have gone. “See you tomorrow...” she says quietly, then turns to leave...

But then remembers what she was going to ask. She turns around and yells, “Oh! Homura!”

Too late. The light turns green and the cars pass before she can run across. She catches a slight glimpse of that beautiful black hair before it suddenly vanishes from view when the first vehicle passes.

* * *

The next morning, at breakfast, Madoka is recounting the other day to her mother while they get ready. Junko hums at the details, and adds her comments to the end, “Sounds like this girl just gets weirder and weirder. You sure she's alright in the head?”

“_Mama_!” Madoka whines. “You're acting just like Sayaka!”

Junko chuckles, “Maybe she rubbed off on me a little! Well, I was half-serious.”

“Half?” Madoka asks while she brushes her hair.

“Not to say it's a bad thing, but maybe she's just...different.” Junko explains, applying lipstick afterwards.

Madoka hums, “Hmm... Still, I want to be friends with her.”

“Hmph.” Junko scoffs haughtily “I raised a pretty persistent daughter, didn't I? Who knows? Maybe it'll work. Just have to try it out.”

“But how do I get through to her?”

Junko starts posing herself in the mirror at different angles while she thinks, eventually settling on a brief answer, “Use your charms.”

Madoka looks at her side-eyed.

Junko explains a bit, “You're pretty cute. Play that up. Be as cute as you can around her. Pick out something that makes you pop, like those ribbons she gave you.”

Madoka looks down at them, the ribbons settled on the sink and waiting to be tied up like usual. Since that day, she'd been wearing them everywhere. “Flashy”. That's what her mother called them. Flashy, but fitting. Just enough, not too much. Absolutely perfect for her. Both of them had spent hours trying to figure out just what Homura meant by handing them over, both settling on Occam's Unfortunately Incorrect Razor. Not that they'd know that. Still, the whole ordeal was puzzling, and something Madoka's still seeking answers for. Maybe that's part of why she wants to be friends so badly?

“I might be a little selfish.” she says.

Junko stares at her, slightly frustrated, “A little selfishness isn't a bad thing. Just make sure you don't overdo it. It's perfectly fine to want things for yourself, you know.”

Madoka continues to gaze at the loose ribbons as she doubts, “I don't know.”

Junko stifles a chuckle. She looks around at the surrounding monitors featuring stocks and all sorts of other things, then notices the time, “We can talk about this tonight, but we need to leave, soon.”

Unsatisfied, Madoka nods along and does herself up for the morning.

On her way up to the building, she meets up with Sayaka, Kyouko, Hitomi, and Kyosuke all walking together and goofing around belligerently, as presumed to be usual. There's nothing off about it, but Madoka can't help but feel like it's somehow incomplete. Is it her mood? That she's not participating? Or are they missing a few people? The thought nags at her until they get up to the lockers.

Sayaka manages to get out of Kyouko's..._ahem,_ “accommodating embrace” long enough to ask how her morning has been.

“Fine, I guess.” Madoka says, still lost in thought and a bit downtrodden. She starts inputting the combination for her locker.

“Just fine? What, were the eggs sunny-side up?” Sayaka kids.

Madoka can't help but grin knowingly, “Sayaka, don't joke about her too much.”

“Hey, you have to admit that was a good one.” Sayaka demands facetiously.

Madoka rolls her eyes and opens the door — only for an envelope to fall out.

Sayaka gasps and backsteps. “Oooh?” she oohs. “What's this? Did Madoka finally get the love letter she's been waiting for!?”

Madoka quickly snags the envelope before Sayaka can get her mitts on it, “Th-There's no way! This is probably nothing!”

“Then open it up and read it!” Sayaka tells her. Just in time for Kyouko to come back around for round two of Sayaka-back riding. The two push each other around while Madoka covertly opens the letter.

A plain white paper. No special scent, just the smell of ink. Written in the center with no signature or greeting are the words written in black,

“_You are a wonderful person._”

She stares at the words for a solid minute while the other students apathetically pass by. Eventually, her entire group has huddled around her, and suddenly start demanding to see what it says.

“Lemme see, lemme see!” Sayaka yells. “I want to see! It's my right as your best friend!”

“Hey, hey, a girl's love life is her own business!” Kyouko argues as she pushes Sayaka back.

“Oh my, I wonder what you'll respond with~!” Hitomi coos, despite not knowing what it says. Kyosuke doesn't seem nearly as interested in it as everyone else, as one might expect.

Eventually, they all manage to disperse and head on to class, letting Madoka just have her time...staring at the letter. The only thing that stops her from continuing is the bell ringing. She looks down at the letter with a finally relaxed smile, and collapses it. Places it back into its envelope, then into a covert pocket in her bag. Finally, she runs off to class, content.


	3. Lunch Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls all have lunch together for the first time. Well, most the them.

“_Every single day_?” Hitomi asks incredulously as she sits at her desk, talking with Sayaka before classes start.

Sayaka confirms, “Yeah, she's been getting one every day. They're all like, one or two sentences long, and we can't figure out who's sending them!”

“My, my,” Hitomi grins “she's become quite popular. Could it be the three years she spent in American doing its work?”

“Eh?” Sayaka tilts her head.

Hitomi explains, “Well, they say that kids who come back from America are more beautiful and assertive than before! Maybe she got more charm?”

Sayaka grumbles, “Hmm... I don't know about that, she's seems pretty much the same, to me. And I've known her for her whole life. Well, almost.”

Hitomi sits back in a rare display of casual pondering, “Perhaps it could be the ribbons?”

“Don't know.” Sayaka says, taking a similarly laid back stance with her hands behind her head. “Wish she'd just tell us what they say. Would make things a lot easier.”

“That is her decision.” Hitomi says.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sayaka replies nonchalantly.

Homura, sitting at her corner desk to their left, stops looking out at nothing for a moment to glance at them, then at the entrance with the vaguest sense of interest.

“Speak of the devil!” Sayaka shouts as Madoka approaches, another envelope clutched in hand which she quickly slides into her bag before responding.

“Sayaka! Hitomi! Morning!” she calls out.

“Hey, I saw that!” Sayaka says, waving. “Got another one?”

“Hm?” Madoka feigns ignorance for a moment. “Oh, yeah.” She passes by and sits down.

“Come on, show us!” Sayaka demands, turning around and leaning in towards her.

Madoka groans, “Sayakaaa...”

“I won't tell anyone!” Sayaka pleas.

Madoka exhales deeply, “They were just...wishing me a good day. That's all.”

Given she says this with no real embarrassment, Sayaka is forced to believe her, but she still manages to whine about it, “Eh? That's it? Not much of a love letter.”

Madoka rolls her eyes for the first time since she came back, but doesn't say anything.

Sayaka gets the message, “Alright, I'll stop teasing you. Hey, so are you still inviting the chuuni to lunch with us?”

“She's not---!” Madoka is about to argue.

“Joking! Joking.” Sayaka quickly reminds her.

After a deep breath, Madoka answers, “Y-Yes. I am. Is she...?” She looks back to Homura and is relieved to see her sitting there, being her usual, mysterious self. Still can't tell if it's an act or not. She smiles instinctively, especially when Homura looks over at her for a split-second. Slowly, she gets up and tells the others to wait for a minute as she walks on over and pops the question.

Homura is pretty slow to respond, but eventually agrees, “If that would make you happy, then so be it.”

Madoka makes the _biggest_ grin, accentuated by a nod, “Okay! I'll see you in a little while!” and skips back to her desk.

Behind a hand covering her mouth, Homura can't help but smile, having seen her adorable display as a reflection in the glass.

* * *

By the time Madoka, Sayaka, Hitomi, and Kyouko have all gathered on the rooftop, Homura somehow got there before them. Madoka runs up to her as she's leaning against the fence, _very_ slowly eating a fruit-granola bar, then drags her over to the bench where they all sit down.

“Is that all you're eating?” Madoka asks her as she begins unboxing her own lunch: fried chicken as usual.

“I'm not particularly hungry.” Homura insists as she looks down.

“But you need to eat!”

Homura tries _very_ hard to not contradict her no matter how false that is. The whole transforming into a weird witch hybrid thing seemingly eliminated her basic needs entirely, and now the only thing she really felt any side effects from avoiding were (regretably) sleep. As proven by the bags under her eyes. Speaking of which...

“You don't take very good care of yourself, do you?” Madoka asks quietly, bending over to get a better look at her face, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

For a moment, when Homura looks back, her composure falters. Where she usually looks apathetic and stern, this time her eyebrows are curled up in concern and mouth hung ajar as she stares back silently.

It gives Madoka enough time to finally notice, “Homura, your eyes...”

Homura flinches slightly.

“You look really tired.” she finishes.

Homura sighs in relief, though Madoka can't point out why. “It's okay.” she says. “I'm fine, they always look like that.”

“Aww.” Madoka coos. “That's no good, Homura. Come here, say 'Aah'.”

“W-What?” Homura leans back slightly, unsure of how to respond.

“Open your mouth! Say 'Aah'!” Madoka repeats, picking up a piece of chicken.

“But... I'm not...” Homura tries to argue in vain, Madoka giving her a stern look that makes her instantly give in. “A...Aah?” she opens her mouth up reluctantly.

“There you go.” Madoka says sweetly, plopping the piece into her mouth. “Now eaaat.”

Still reluctantly and slowly, Homura chews and swallows with a half-confused, half-concerned look. Nonetheless, Madoka seems happy.

“How is it?” she asks.

Homura gives her a simple “Good.” despite the fact that, as usual, Tomohisa's cooking far surpasses everything she has ever tasted in her life. Just being able to have a small part of it in the form of Madoka's lunch is a treat and a half. The thought of being able to indulge in such things makes her stomach suddenly sink. In response, her face turns pale.

“Homura? You okay?” Madoka asks when she notices the odd look Homura gives her. “Is it bad?”

“No, no!” Homura reassures her defensively. “I was just thinking of something else.”

“Oh.” Madoka says, switching right back to happy mode. “Well, have another! Come on, open up!”

Unable to refuse her, Homura does as she's told. But before anything else can happen, Sayaka jumps up from her seat and yells, “Hey, what gives!? I want some, too!”

“Uh, well...” Madoka stammers, fidgeting between the two of them.

Homura interjects, “Don't bully her into sharing, Sayaka Miki.”

“I'm not! I'll give her some of mine, too!” Sayaka argues. “Now, just...” She starts trying to crawl overtop of Hitomi and on top of Homura's shoulders to try to reach over.

“Tck!” Homura scoffs. “Get...off!” She recoils back, trying to push Sayaka, and the two end up bickering about it until Sayaka's stray knee accidentally knocks over Hitomi's delicately assorted and fancy-looking bento.

As soon as it hits the ground, everyone's eyes are on it.

“Oh no.” Homura whispers to herself.

Sayaka retracts back into her seat immediately. Hitomi stares down at the lunch wide-eyed, as if she had just watched a kitten get run over and is still in shock. As Sayaka tries to console and apologize, Hitomi starts to tear up and get ever closer to the edge of bursting into tears.

That's when Kyouko finally jumps up and announces, “Hey, hey...” She bends over and collects the face-down lunch back into its box, then sets it back into her lap, “Just eat it, alright?”

“It's...” Hitomi says “...it's ruined! I can't eat something that landed on the ground like that! It's just unsanitary!”

This sets Kyouko off. “Don't you dare throw that food away!” she yells. “I would've killed to eat that off the ground a year ago!”

“Eh!?” Hitomi shouts. “That's horrible! You'll get sick like that!”

“Better than starving.” Kyouko argues.

Hitomi pouts, but ultimately tries to suck it up and eat the tainted food. She picks up a clump of rice and opens her mouth, hesitantly bringing it closer, and...

Fails completely. Instead of biting down, she drops it and starts sobbing into her hands, “I'm sorry, I can't do it! It's just too---!”

Kyouko rolls her eyes and groans, “Ugh, fine!” She swaps their lunches forcefully. “_I'll_ eat it, then. But you better promise to finish mine!”

Hitomi looks on in confusion and mild surprise. Sayaka comments in a teasing tone, “Kyouko? Being generous for once? What's gotten into you _this_ time?”

“Oh, shut up.” Kyouko bitches at her.

Meanwhile, Madoka and Homura have carefully scooted away from the commotion, the latter content with being pampered away from everyone else's attention. Hitomi opens up the box that Kyouko gave her, expecting something low-class. Well, it's not exactly wrong. It's pretty simplistic.

Two apples, a pre-peeled orange, some plain and mostly unseasoned rice, and...a candy bar? She almost can't believe what she's looking at, then remembers Kyouko's unfortunate circumstances. With that in mind, she digs in with greater humility than usual.

At the same time, Sayaka decides to ask, “Hey, Kyouko, what's been up recently? You've just been sleeping constantly.”

Kyouko takes a moment to literally shovel Hitomi's sullied lunch into her mouth before she answers, “Aah, Momo's gotten me staying up all night. She can't sleep for some reason.”

“Ah, right. I keep forgetting you have a sister, for some reason...” Sayaka says.

“Such a hassle. I have to get up early to help mom on sunday, too. I can't get a day off!” Kyouko continues, exasperated near the end before she shoves another handful in.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Sayaka starts “how's your family been?”

“Better than before.” Kyouko states the obvious. “Shit was _bad_ at the old church, but things have been getting better since we moved to Mitakihara. The people here are a little more open-minded to dad's preaching. More people have been coming. Still get called a cult, but at least we can eat, now.”

“That's good.” Sayaka says. She's finally gotten started on her own, which is basically the same as Madoka's but without the wonderful home-cooked meat. While Kyouko's busy devouring what everyone else now considers dirt, Sayaka just slowly prods at her own and stares up into the sky, pondering something. By the time Kyouko finishes, she's doing the same, but looking at Sayaka instead of the sky. She wants to ask what she's thinking about, but takes too long. The bell ends up ringing, and she assumes she can just ask later.

Everyone ends up finishing by the time it does. Hitomi had a fun time trying to figure out how to properly eat the apples without first peeling/chopping them, and ended up giving the candy bar back with a gratuitous bow. Sayaka was too busy losing herself in thought to finish and had to scarf it all down at the last minute. Homura ended up eating most of Madoka's lunch, leaving her feeling absolutely livid with apathy-masked guilt. But Madoka seemed pleased, so it wasn't all bad. She would come to regret doing that later, in the middle of PE.

“I'll make enough for both of us from now on, okay?” she said at the end of the day. Of course, she also wouldn't take no for an answer. No matter how much Homura insisted against that, she would still go and do it. They all go home, mostly having forgotten everything that just transpired, with the unspoken promise to do it again, tomorrow.

“I look forward to it.” Homura says a few hours too late, to herself, in the darkness of her home.


	4. Playing Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura wants to get back into video games. Kyouko makes a recommendation.

It's Friday; and what does Friday mean for the students of Mitakihara Middle School? Well, the start of the weekend, of course! Having embraced the idea of a two-day weekend, both teachers and students alike are relieved the moment the end of the day hits, realizing they'll get just a little more time to sleep in.

Of course, one such person not to care about trivial things like sleep is Akemi Homura, who has decided to use her evening to try to find herself, again. She'd honestly rather be accompanying Madoka, but figures that she's probably having a fun enough time at home. So in lieu of that, she recalls one of the few things she remembers enjoying when she stayed in the hospital for so long: video games. Up until now, she had only ever played on mobile systems, with games that eat up time like nobody's business. Pokemon was one of her favorites. She still remembers the team she ground to level 100 in Emerald before the cartridge broke.

Some part of her wants to go back to that, but another part begs for something more...challenging. Which is why she finds herself at the desk of a game shop, asking the clerk there, “What is the hardest game you have that isn't bad?”

Of course, the mid-thirties guy standing there didn't know shit. “I just operate the register.” he says. Who the hell works in a specialty store and doesn't know anything about the specialty? Absurd.

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, walking away in disappointment, “I'll just find one myself, then.”

It is her luck, of course, that she would run into Kyouko less than a minute later, who was apparently visiting the same place at the same time, against all odds.

“Psst.” she whispers. “Hey; Homura, right?”

Homura glares at her in response.

Kyouko takes that as a yes and continues, “You wanted a hard game, right?”

“...Right.” Homura answers, subconsciously wary of anything Kyouko recommends.

“I got just the thing.” Kyouko says as she dashes over to the PS3 section. She returns in a flash, holding up a game with a knight sitting at a campfire, his back turned. “This here is what you want!” she insists.

“Mhm.” Homura hums, taking a look at the back of the box. Some sort of medieval action RPG. Looks dark and gritty. As the devil, she is so inclined and perhaps obligated to prefer things of a darker nature, against her actual interests. After a moment's consideration, she decides to try to trust her on this one. “Alright. And it's...PS3?”

“Yeah. You got one of those, right?”

Homura shakes her head.

Kyouko quickly jumps on the opportunity to set up future plot hooks, “Well shit, looks like you have to come over to Sayaka's place, then! We'll make it a play-date! What do you say, tomorrow?”

Unfortunately, Homura shoots her down, “...No thanks. I'll just get one of my own.” As Homura walks away and up to the counter, Kyouko is left absolutely dejected.

“...and a PS3?” the clerk asks for confirmation, giving her a skeptical stare.

“Yes, for the third time.” Homura confirms.

He shrugs, “Used or new?”

“New, of course.” Homura answers.

“...You realize how much—?” the man tries to ask, but Homura cuts him off.

“Yes.”

He turns around without another word and retrieves a new console from behind the counter, turning to find that tens of thousands of Yen have mysteriously made their way onto the desk. As he sets it down, he asks, “How did a kid like you get this much—?”

Homura cuts him off again, “Don't question me.”

And so he doesn't. He gives her back the change, and she skips off on her merry way as if nothing strange had happened. The clerk and Kyouko look at each other, both in mild awe.

* * *

It takes a while and quite a bit of hassle, but Homura manages to hook the PS3 up to her computer monitor, both lacking a TV and not really wanting one. Apartment is small enough as-is, and she can't really go having a mansion all to herself without attracting suspicion, as much as she would love to do it.

An hour of setting up the actual console later, and she's ready to play. The disk slides in, the splash screens silently and slowly go by, and the title shows up in big, bold letters with a deafening boom behind them:

“**DARK SOULS**”

If she hadn't already been through hell, it would have sent shivers down her spine. Her only reaction here, though, is, “Well, this is nice.” Especially once she enters the character creation menu, with its soft and lovely background melody.

Now, the hardest time she has with this thing is choosing her class. On one hand, choosing something like a sorcerer with ranged weapons suits her, and it's better to have the reach advantage over enemies. On the other hand, playing as the Deprived would make it a lot harder. Not understanding how this game works, she makes the mistake of choosing the Deprived.

The rest is fairly straightforward. Slim build, female, straight black hair like herself, and choosing the Old Witch's Ring under the impression that it'll eventually be important. Starts with the Astora look, but then spends two hours in the character creator turning it into an abomination in an attempt to create something resembling an attractive human being. She goes right back to default and just deals with it.

Then, as she's about to start the game, a child comes and sits beside her. Something whispers into her ear, and she turns around.

“Ganko?” she says to the child with the big, fluffy hat on top. “You want to watch, don't you?”

Ganko smiles at her in response.

“Fine, just don't bother me.”

And with that, she presses start. The intro leaves her surprisingly pumped up, with tales of giant armies fighting dragons and setting the world on fire and such. For a moment, she thinks she's going to be one of them.

And then it cuts to her character in a prison cell. “Wait, what?” she asks.

A small child with a flower in her hair comes from behind and exclaims, “**Du bist so hässlich!**” as she rests her head on top of Homura's.

“Hey!” Homura yells back, swatting her away. Just about misses the part where the body with the key drops down, but still gets out just fine. Has a fun time trying to figure out the controls and basic mechanics before noticing the open door in the first area. She walks through...

And a giant obese demon slams its ass down directly in front of her.

“Oh.” she says with mild surprise.

Then it smashes her in with its club.

“_Oh._” she repeats with _more_ mild surprise.

She respawns at the bonfire. “Well,” she says “I guess I just need to try again. Everyone dies in hard games, right?”

So she runs into again, quickly finding that her meager punches deal single digits.

“Oh dear.” she says as her character is flung into a nearby pillar and instantly dies.

“**Du bist gestorben!**” Ganko nearly yells into her ear with a big smile on her face.

She ignores it. Respawns again. Goes in again. Dies again.

“**Du bist—!**” Ganko tries to yell, only for her to shove her hand over its mouth.

“Don't.” she commands, then lets go.

She would repeat this process of smashing herself directly into the demon for the next hour, dying about a hundred different times (each one making her boil more than the last, not being helped by Ganko taunting her in the background) until she has at last completely mastered the art of circle strafing, thus allowing her to punch the demon to death. Again, this takes _literal hours_ to accomplish, but by the time she eventually literally fists it to death, the sheer amount of _triumph_ dissolves whatever rage she held while dealing with that entire ordeal.

She lets it out in a primal war cry, “YES! EAT IT, YOU FILTHY DEMON! I FINALLY BEAT YOU! AAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Surely, nobody in the complex appreciated that outburst, but nobody dared speak up, either. After letting out her screams, Ganko yells back, “**Nichtsnutz hat endlich gewonnen!**”

The other kids who gathered around her refrain, “**Dummes Mädchen! Dummes Mädchen!**”

And they all start dancing around, throwing psychedelic confetti they've somehow conjured out of nowhere onto her. She looks completely unamused.

Shortly after, she notices that two items have popped up: A key and the weapon that the demon was smashing her face in with. “Nice.” she says, opening the menu and figuring out how to equip it while praying that it's not trash.

The immediate “Not enough strength to wield” message is rather foreboding, but she decides to try it anyways.

She swings it.

And it takes an eternity to even move.

“You have to be kidding me.” she says while the kids laugh in the background. She looks down at her phone to check the time, noting that in the time it took her to do this, it's already become night. With a heavy sigh, she reluctantly continues, “Well, nothing else to do, tonight.”

It's only after beating the boss that she realizes that there's an open passage to the left. Goes through, is relieved to find a bonfire, then goes forward...

...to find the club and shitty wooden shield she was supposed to pick up.

“Wait...” she says as she analyzes the situation. “_Wait..._” she repeats, accounting for the context of the past few hours. When she realizes how badly she fucked up, she just about screams again, and only stops short of breaking the controller. Instead, she grits her teeth and says, “_You have to be kidding me._”

Despite how utterly, unbelievably pissed off this entire first impression has made her, she nonetheless powers forward through sheer stubbornness alone and thoroughly eradicates the entirety of the starting area with that dingy club of hers, which she quickly finds is about a hundred times more effective than her fists. Thankfully, the hours of “practicing” made it far easier than intended.

By the time she gets out of the starting area and into the actual game, she is questioning whether she should continue or stop to give Kyouko an earful. And then she remembers that she hasn't given anyone her phone number yet, nor asked for theirs; suddenly calling one of them out of the blue like that would be suspicious at best. No phone book, either. She'd have to bitch at her tomorrow, it seems.

For now, Lordran awaits...


	5. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura visits the Sakura family's new-ish church to see how things are going, and to give Kyouko an earful.

Just as she promised to herself the night before, Homura decided that Sunday afternoon would be a good time to visit the Sakura family’s (new) church to give the eldest daughter what for, about the game she “recommended”. Afternoon because they would have been far too busy in the morning with service and all. Presumably. She hadn’t really been keeping tabs on how they’re doing since the universe got rewritten again. Good time to check in overall, she guesses.

And as she enters the church which is essentially just a run-down, repurposed general building that used to be an office supplies store, she notices that there are  _ still _ people here. Even so long after morning service and sunday school should have ended, it seems some people are still content to visit. Kyouko’s father is busying himself with a few people near the podium, seemingly preaching to them, while her red-headed mother is moving some cardboard boxes out of a back room. She’s got on a pencil skirt and apron-shirt with short sleeves — short, fluffy curls like she just jumped out of a 1950s American suburb.

Not wary enough to deal with the father, Homura makes a beeline for the mother, who is the first to welcome her, “Well, I’ve never seen  _ you _ here, before!” She says this while looking away, but as soon as she does and notices the school uniform, she exclaims, “Oh, you must be from the middle school. Are you here for Kyouko?” She reeks of busybody sweat and a slightly nostalgic strawberry perfume that just barely masks how hard moving in has been on her.

Homura wasn’t sure what she would be getting when she decided to resurrect Kyouko’s parents. They were recreated from memory, but she wasn’t able to directly judge while everything was happening. Now, though, she ends up being even more confused about Kyouko’s pseudo-delinquent behavior. Nevertheless, she confirms with the vaguest tone of surprise, “Yes, actually. Would you...?”

“Of course!” she says excitedly, with a big grin, then  _ skips _ off to fetch her.

Homura can only pause for a moment and say to herself, “...What?”

It’s another few minutes before Kyouko is running up to her, in which time Homura eavesdrops on the father’s preaching. Something about “Accept her, for she is still your daughter.” Can’t tell what started the conversation. A couple who came to him with their teenage daughter who didn’t start out looking too enthusiastic about it, to say the least, but immediately looked surprised when the father said that. “There are no demons to be found here; God made her this way! Surely, anything which produces things as wonderful as love and happiness shouldn’t be destroyed!”

It’s around there that Homura zones out about something else. Reflecting on her past experiences with the clergy. She rolls her eyes. Not too long later and Kyouko comes running out of the same back room, waving, “Yo, Homura! Finally decided to stop by, eh? Watchya doin’ here?”

As she approaches, Homura distantly answers, “Not much. Just checking in.”

“Five months later? Besides, I thought you were Christian or something.” Kyouko puts her arms behind her head casually.

Homura glances around at the drab scenery, “Not really. Or, well, something  _ like _ that. Not exactly.”

“Shit, could you be more vague?” Kyouko jokes. “Not sure I’m confused enough, yet.”

Homura scoffs, “None of your business, anyways.”

“Whatever.” Kyouko brushes her cold demeanor off. “So what’s happening, anyways? What, you come begging for help with that game?”

Homura’s switch immediately flips as she points aggressively at Kyouko, “Now listen here, I know I said I wanted a hard game, but I  _ literally fisted a giant demon to  _ ** _death_ ** . That was  _ the _ most tedious thing I have EVER done in a game! And I’ve ground a full team of six Pokemon to level 100!”

“Wait, what?” Kyouko suddenly throws her arms down, staring at Homura in complete shock.

“You heard me.” Homura says.

Kyouko gives it a moment’s thought, then bursts into hysterics, “You... YOU BEAT THE ASYLUM DEMON WITH YOUR FISTS!? HA—!” She tries to continue laughing, but she runs out of breath mid-sentence and has to gasp for air as she collapses to the floor. “Oh god, you actually did it! This is rich! Oh God, I wish I could have been there to see YOUR FACE!” She slowly manages to get up, then slams her hand down on Homura’s shoulder and uses her as leverage to stay up. “So tell me, little-miss-perfect-grades, what class did you start with?”

Reluctantly, Homura answers truthfully, “...Deprived.”

“HAAAAAAA!” Kyouko loses her shit again, only barely managing to not keel over before she can follow up, “And...what gift?”

Regrettably, she answers again, “Old Witch’s Ring.”

Kyouko wheezes with how hard she tries to laugh, and loses leverage again. “Oh, you’re gonna love that one! HA! DEPRIVED! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!”

“Oh, shut up. I bet you did the same thing when you played it!” Homura shoots back.

When she gets back to her feet, still try not to laugh, Kyouko counters, “You wish! I did my research, first, and didn’t torture myself!”

By now, her father and the people he was lecturing are now staring at the two. Homura swats her on the back of the head while she’s trying to get back up, “You’re making yourself look like a fool, Kyouko Sakura. People are staring at you.”

Kyouko looks at them back, briefly, then acquiesces, “Ah, fine, I’ll stop makin’ fun of you.” The two stand in silence while Kyouko gets herself back together and her father goes back to talking with the family at hand. Meanwhile, Homura is still stuck staring off into space, thinking about something. Eventually, Kyouko gets bothered enough by it to ask seriously, “Hey, you been all dreamy-eyed since you got here. What’s up?” She goes and sits on a nearby box, “Come on, talk to sissy Kyouko.”

Homura sighs and approaches, but doesn’t sit. “Sissy Kyouko?” she asks in bewilderment.

“Yeah, that’s what Momo calls me. My little sis.” she explains.

Homura starts to lose herself in thought again, “Right... Your sister loves you a lot, doesn’t she?”

“Well, yeah.” Kyouko says as if it’s obvious. “Who wouldn’t?”

Homura ignores that last remark. “And you, her?”

“Like I said...” Kyouko repeats. Homura stares down at the ground, making a bit of a difficult expression that Kyouko can’t quite decipher. That fact kind of pisses her off. “Hey...” she says “...don’t just be keepin’ t’yourself all the damn time. Kinda creepy.”

“That’s just me.” Homura dismisses.

Kyouko sighs, “Well, what else was on your mind?”

Homura continues on her previous tangent, “...And what’s with your mother?”

“Eh?” Kyouko looks confused.

“Skipping all over the place. Looking like that, doing the hard work.”

“Ah, she’s just a bit of a green apple.” Kyouko...explains?

“Green...apple? What?”

Kyouko chuckles, “God, you’re clueless, aren’t you?” Homura scowls at this. “She’s just a bit different from everyone. A free spirit, if you catch my drift. Far as I’m concerned, only reason her and dad got together is because she’s a good christian girl.”

“I see.” Homura says, not giving an iota of her actual feelings on the matter.

“Yeah, don’t mind her. She’s actually pretty great. Just wish she’d stop putting tomatoes in all the damn food...”

“Tomatoes?” Homura asks, her initial confusion having compounded several times over the course of their conversation, so far.

“Yeah, these kids keep leaving boxes of tomatoes labeled, ‘Apples’ at our door. Can’t just let ‘em go bad, but still...”

“Boxes of...?” Homura starts wondering before she can hear the clara dolls giggling maniacally from her earcuff’s mouth. “Never mind. Probably just some stupid prank.” she dismisses immediately. Having dispelled them from her mind (with some trouble), she asks, “And your father? I trust his preaching is going well.”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask?” Kyouko says, pointing forward.

“Don’t know?” Homura scoffs “Bullsh—!”

Before she can finish, an enormous hand grasps her shoulder with familiar but still uncomfortable confidence as Kyouko’s father’s booming voice enters their ears, “Ah, Kyouko, is this one of your friends?”

“Something like that.” Kyouko answers.

“Hardly.” Homura corrects as she tries to wriggle out of his grasp, only for him to reset her efforts by patting her on the shoulder.

“Such a wonderful thing, friendship is!” he bellows out, loud enough to fill the room. “My dear, I’m so glad you’ve adjusted so well! This makes two, doesn’t it?”

“Two  _ friends _ ?” Homura asks, again in disbelief. At this point, it’s her default expression. “Surely you haven’t only been hanging out with  _ Sayaka _ of all people.”

Kyouko argues with her, “Hey! She’s pretty cool when she’s not being a total idiot!”

“Is that even a compliment?” Homura asks rhetorically.

“Sure it is!” Kyouko answers anyways.

Her father chuckles nervously, “Kyouko has always had...trouble making friends. Especially after that  _ horrible _ series of unfortunate tests.” He strides over to her in one step and hugs her from the side, “But when we received the will of God and came to our new home, it was like a miracle! Only days and she had already found a reliable friend!”

“Tch. ‘Reliable...’” Homura quietly says to herself. She then asks aloud, “Wait, ‘will of God’?”

The father nods, “Yes, it was him. Kyouko, here, had a dream one night as I was lying awake in bed, and ran in to tell me that God told her to come to this place! That he promised us a fruitful endeavor for our faith! People would listen, and we would make the world a better place: one sermon at a time! Lo and behold, the prophecy has come true!”

Homura makes a bit of a difficult face as the memories of how she pulled off this background come back to her,  _ “Ah, right. Maybe a prophetic dream wasn’t the best choice in the world, but I guess it worked if they all believe it. But was it really the right choice to give  _ her _ the dream? Giving it to him may have been more...intuitive.” _

As she’s pondering this, she asks, “Given your good mood, I suppose today’s sermon went well?”

“Oh, it went splendidly!” he proclaims.

“New members?” Homura assumes.

“Nobody left halfway through!” he corrects her with a wide smile despite the lackluster accomplishment.

“I see.” Homura replies simply, not wanting to ruin his mood with reality. Some things are best left ignorant, after all. Many things.

Kyouko seems happy, after all. Her and her father are blissfully joking with each other and celebrating another day, their words not reaching Homura as she thinks. It’s none of her concern. The conversations are mere pleasantries against the greater background. She finds herself backing up with each coming thought, taking in more of her surroundings. The family before her seems content to ignore her presence for the moment.

Momo comes running out, latching onto Kyouko and yelling about something. Kyouko smiles back, her father strokes the little one’s head and says something that gets tuned out. The mother comes out a moment later to pick Momo up and head back into the deeper parts of the building, beckoning the other two forth. The father pats his daughter on the back and leaves with his wife.

Kyouko comes up to Homura and asks, so she tunes back in for just long enough, “Hey, we’re startin’ dinner. Wanna stay for a bite? Come on, it’ll be good! Was thinkin’ somethin’ italian, what with all the tomatoes.”

Homura shakes her head and turns to leave with a long sigh, “Not today.”

“Eh? Some other time, then?” she asks fruitlessly. “Hey,” she tries to reach out as Homura walks away “why not!?”

Before she can get an answer, Homura walks out the double doors and back onto the streets. “No place for a devil, in a church.” she says. Half to herself, half to Kyouko who can’t even hear.

By the time Kyouko bursts out to find her a few seconds later, she’s already gone and vanished into thin air. The only thing she leaves behind is a black feather that Kyouko just dismisses outright. She shrugs, “Whaaaatever.” She heads back inside to have dinner with her family.

Of course they would ask about the traditional beauty who just blessed (or cursed, maybe) the church with her brief appearance. She gives them the basics, not that she knows much anyways. Jokes about how she’s got a proverbial stick up her ass about something. Everyone laughs.

Homura would hear all about this, later that night, from the whispers of the Dark Orb. In her own little dark corner, she gives them her invisible half-grin of both fondness and something not quite within the range of her diction. Not quite displeasure, but worse than anything neutral. Something quite difficult.

“This...” she says to herself “...is good enough.”


	6. Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another letter, another small miracle that nobody else notices.

Another letter. Madoka walks into class with yet another letter on Monday morning, with more than a few people turning heads to gawk at it before inevitably going back to their own friends. Sayaka, Hitomi, and a newly-awake Kyouko badger her about it as soon as she takes a seat.

Hitomi starts, “Another one, Madoka?” 

“Y-Yeah!” Madoka says with a nervous smile, clearly not looking forward to telling them about it.

Sayaka, less annoyingly this time, turns around and asks, “Awesome. What does it say, this time? They finally gonna tell you to come to the rooftop alone?”

Madoka shakes her head and rolls her eyes, still smiling, looking away briefly, “No, no, nothing like that.”

Kyouko, who’s sitting on top of Sayaka’s desk, follows up, “Well what is it, pinky!? Come on, I just got in the loop on this, gimme the goods!” She gestures by beckoning with both hands, in a pulling motion.

“Okay, fine!” Madoka quickly relents as she pulls the letter back out of its envelope.

Sayaka can immediately tell from the way the light shines through the paper, revealing the rough shape of the text, that it yet again contains only a single sentence in the center of the paper. “Eh? Only one sentence, again?”

“Er, yeah...” Madoka confirms, looking confused about how she figured that out. Nevertheless, she tells them, “It says, ‘I hope you had a wonderful weekend.’”

The others sigh and (minus Kyouko) lean back into their seats. Hitomi comments, “Honestly, he should just confess, already! Do they not realize how annoying it is? Receiving letter after letter of small talk; they could just talk to me like a normal person! I really liked getting those flowery confessions, even if I had to reject them all, in the end!”

Before she can continue her ramble, Sayaka interrupts, “Yeah, yeah, you’re popular, we get it. I gave you Captain Oblivious, so quit yer whining!”

Hitomi calms down when she’s reminded of that detail, sighing, “Ah, you  _ are _ correct. Apologies, Sayaka. I forgot how soon it was.”

Sayaka scoffs, a faint blush forming, “You don’t need to apologize. I’m over it, really.”

“No, no, I must.” Hitomi insists.

“No, no, you  _ don’t _ .” Sayaka shoots back.

Sayaka seems annoyed, but Hitomi is all-too-pleased by her own politeness. Or perhaps she’s teasing, again. Wouldn’t be the first time nobody knew she was trying to do that. Of course, only a few moments pass in the sudden silence of nothing but Hitomi’s ladylike chuckle before she inevitably turns back to Madoka and asks, “And what of you? Who do you think it is? Is there anybody you like?”

“I’ve only been back for a week!” Madoka yells exasperatedly.

Sayaka laughs at this heartily, “Ha! Come on, Hitomi. She’s right, just give the gossip a break for a bit. You can’t go one day without it, can you?”

Hitomi pouts, “Well excuse me for trying to have a little fun!” She angrily crosses her arms.

Sayaka laughs again, “Hmph. Well, anyways, I’m actually kind of curious, too. Madoka. Just looking around, you sure you don’t like _ any _ of the guys around here?”

“Uh...” Madoka hesitates, unsure of how to continue that wouldn’t let them continue to tease her as they apparently love to do.  _ “Middle school really changed them.” _ she thinks.

“What about, uh...” Sayaka ponders, looking around. “...Nakazawa? Up front, always gets called on in the morning?”

“Who?” Madoka asks, trying to look around up front to see what she’s talking about.

Kyouko interjects, “Nah, he’s totally got a thing goin’ with the teach.”

“Eh? Ms. Saotome?” Sayaka asks in disbelief.

Hitomi gasps, “ _ Ah! _ How  _ scandalous! _ The forbidden relationship between student and teacher!”

Sayaka rolls her eyes, “Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist. I doubt that’s it.”

Kyouko shrugs, “Whatever, just what I think.”

Sayaka starts to think again, “Well, what about...Ryuu? The big guy.”

“Uh...” Madoka repeats, frantically looking around the room. There’s really only one in the room who fits the description of ”big” best, and she just shrugs.

Hitomi tries, “Shouhei? Behind you, to the right.”

Madoka looks behind her and to the right, to see a guy with a side-swept haircut reading a book in peace. Something she wishes she were doing right now. “I mean, he’s fine, but...”

They can suddenly find themselves hearing the incessant tapping of someone’s heel against the ground. Kyouko, not being particularly into the current conversation, is able to easily narrow in on Homura who’s busied herself by staring out the window and tapping her heel like a drummer with a reversed kick pedal.

“What about—?” Sayaka tries again, but is interrupted by Kyouko, who turns back to them just in time.

“What if it’s not a guy? Y’ever think about that, geniuses?” she asks them with a hint of spice and not everything nice.

“What?” they all simultaneously reply as if they were in some sort of comedy show.

“Do you girls _really_ _think_ there’s not a _single _lesbian — even _bi_ — in this _entire room?_” Kyouko asks facetiously, as if the answer is obvious. Of course, they just stare at her.

Except for Hitomi, who tries to exclaim, “But—!”

Kyouko immediately stops her, “Don’t even.”

Hitomi opens her mouth.

“Aaah!” Kyouko yells.

“...!”

“No.”

“...?”

“Don’t do it.”

This time, Hitomi stays quiet. Instead, Sayaka pops up and asks, “Kyouko, are you...?”

“Are  _ you? _ ” Kyouko shoots back as if that’s an argument.

Sayaka sighs, “Okay, fine; be like that.” She turns around to ask Madoka, “Madoka, what about...?”

...Only to find that she’s not in her seat.

“Exit, stage left.” Kyouko announces to them.

The others look to Kyouko’s left.

“No, other left.”

They look to  _ their _ left to see Madoka having left to go talk to Homura of all people. Sayaka complains, “Ugh,  _ her _ again?”

“So...” Madoka says as she comes up to her desk “...how was your weekend, Homura?”

Homura doesn’t even need to look back, as she’s grown adept at staring at people via their reflections in the window. “Fine.” is her only response.

“And what did you...do?” Madoka continues.

Homura sighs, though her foot has stopped tapping, “...The usual. Played some games. Stayed home.”

“That’s nice.” Madoka says. Her tone is sincere, but the problem is more that the conversation just skids to an abrupt halt, there. For several seconds, they stand in silence until Madoka has the courage to speak up again, “Sooo, you play games too?”

All three of her friends groan in pain, and Kyouko facepalms.

Homura also does, but inaudibly. She assumes she needs to at least look at the girl; it might be hurting her feelings to not look at her. And to answer, at least half-honestly, “You probably wouldn’t enjoy them. They’re complicated and dark. Very difficult.”

Kyouko cracks up at that, but doesn’t give any explanation to the others.

Madoka smiles at her, hands pressed against her chest, “Well, those are good, too! Maybe I’ll be as good as you are, one day.”

Flattery is supposed to make people smile. Well, it usually does, and she’s a bit discouraged when Homura shows no real change in expression.

Against her own judgment, Homura presses her a bit, “And you?”

“Oh!” Madoka jumps a bit, pleasantly surprised by the sudden interest. “Well, I’ve got a Wii and a DS at home! Mama and Papa and I are always playing the sports games. Mama likes the boxing one, and Papa likes bowling...” she sits down on Homura’s desk as she continues, swinging her legs excitedly “...and, well, I try all of them sometimes, but I guess they’re all good! I mean, I play tennis a lot, so I guess that’s my favorite, but I’m not really that good at it. We got the expansion, too, so I’ve been playing a lot of the archery!”

Homura flinches visibly, but just barely.

“Er...” Madoka stops “You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You just...”

“I’m fine.” Homura repeats, trying not to take a tone with her.

“Well, anyways,” Madoka continues “We have Mario Kart, — but Mama’s always too drunk to play without getting sick...”

As she starts listing off game after game, trying desperately to hit on something that they might have in common, Homura kind of just tunes her out. Not for a lack of care, though she could easily list everything in Madoka’s  _ house _ alphabetically, at this point. More, she just takes her time to appreciate the truly good part of this encounter. Not the idle conversation, but just being able to look up and admire the girl’s charming, innocent smile. Just listening to her talking carelessly about the things she loves is enough, even if the actual content hardly matters.

Just those wonderful, rosy cheeks of hers burgeoning forth with excitement and joy; eyes either closed or wandering around carelessly, not needing to be wary of anything; entire body relaxed enough to forget the rest of the world and any rules or boundaries. Some people might call someone sitting on your desk to be rude, but for her it’s the opposite. More of a blessing than a curse. Her voice carrying on listlessly like that of an anxiously bashful angel, so soft that even yelling wouldn’t sound threatening. Homura almost catches herself closing her eyes to take everything in, from that soothing, sonorous voice to her lingering scent of strawberries that evoke some sense of readily welcomed nostalgia. But she resists, if for no other reason than to look less suspicious.

She fails anyways, as she tunes back in to Madoka calling her name, “Homura? Homura~?”

“Hm?” Homura hums. Humura. She looks up and finds Madoka giving her not the usual smile, but a huge grin. A spacious,  _ supremely satisfied _ grin. “What is it?” she asks.

Madoka giggles, “You finally smiled!”

“Eh?” Homura grunts, loosening the undeniable grin she had been unaware of until now.

“You finally smiled.” Madoka repeats, leaning back a bit more and lowering her voice to more of a whisper. “Ever since that first day when you gave me these ribbons...” she caresses them “...I’ve been trying to get you to smile at me, again. That’s all I wanted...”

Homura can’t stop staring, completely dumbfounded by this girl’s sheer innocence. In fact, she’s got her mouth hanging ajar while darts between Madoka and her group of friends who are staring on like bullshot-eyed judges at a sports competition.

Just when she has enough pressure on her, Madoka compliments her, “You should do that more often. You look so kind...” As if something possessed her, she starts  _ patting Homura’s head _ , just stroking it slowly while she sits there and accepts it. Soon enough, though, she realizes what she’s doing and retracts her hand, “Oh! Oh, I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking...!”

Homura stops her, “No, it’s fine. You can touch my hair, if you like.”

“Really?” Madoka asks as she inches it closer, again.

“If you want to.”

Those words were all the encouragement she needed. Madoka goes right back to stroking her beautiful hair while complimenting her again, “You know, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while, but...I really like your earring. It’s amazing — how does it glow like that?”

Not restraining herself this time, Homura smiles, “I guess you could say it’s a natural quality. It was... _ very _ expensive. Very precious to me.”

“Precious?”

“It...belonged to a dear friend of mine.” Homura makes up, though it’s technically true.

“Oh, I’m so—” Madoka tries to apologize, but Homura stops her.

“Don’t. It’s fine. You can ask me anything.”

“Anything?” Madoka asks rhetorically, just for assurance. Then, more seriously, “Well, then... Oh! Then, can you come over to my house some time? Maybe we can play something, together? Mama and Papa would love to meet you!”

And just like that, a hundred similar experiences from a hundred past lives all come rushing into Homura’s mind at that exact moment. And for that one point, it is overwhelming to the point of making her expression sour. Madoka worries, but Homura immediately shuts her down on that front, “I’m fine. Just... It’s nothing. I would be glad to come over. When...?”

Madoka rubs the back of her head, “Well, I’m not busy tomorrow. I kind of already promised I’d go out shopping with the others today!”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Homura confirms.

Madoka smiles at her gleefully, and she smiles back. Not just to be courteous, though that was part of it. No, more because she actually looks forward to it despite everything.  _ “Maybe this time it’ll be for real.”  _ she silently hopes to herself.

“So, Homura, do you play Pokemon?” Madoka suddenly asks.

She freezes in place.  _ “Shit, I did! I can’t let her know!” _ she declares in her mind. To that effect, she replies, “I’m afraid I’ve grown out of those types of games.” Technically half-true, maybe. Secretly, she wishes she could get back into them, and this may provide just the excuse without compromising her cool girl reputation.

“Oh, well...” Madoka suddenly looks downtrodden “...there are other games, I guess. I’m just glad we’re doing anything at all!”

_ “I’m sorry, Madoka; I’m a terrible person.” _ is Homura’s first inner reaction to that. “Everything will be fine.” is her outer reaction.

“I guess.” Madoka says with a sigh.

“You can show it to me, anyways.” Homura tries to reassure her as a last-ditch effort to save her mood.

Madoka politely declines the bait, “It’s okay, I don’t want to bore you while we’re hanging out...” Unfortunately, that bait wasn’t hooked, and that fact only makes Homura feel worse. Not visibly, of course. Regardless, Madoka pats her on the shoulder and stands up to go back to her seat, “Well, I’ll talk to you later. Lunch, okay? I’ll share some with you.”

“That’s not...” Homura tries to decline.

“Okay?” Madoka asks again.

Homura smiles at her and just gives up, “...Okay.”

Madoka smiles back, waves, and returns to her seat.

There, her friends would bother her endlessly about the conversation they just had. Of course the naive Madoka would tell them all about it. Or at least most of it, sparing the personals. Sayaka remains suspicious of how she so easily got the cool, mysterious “chuuni” to agree to a playdate, but Kyouko is far less judging and just accepts it.

“Hey, I don’t judge.” Kyouko fittingly comments on that. This caused another argument between her and Sayaka.

Hitomi was more or less confused, but definitely more on the “good for you” side. Luckily for Madoka, most of the gossip they were engaged in got left in the dust to be picked up some other time. The longer the better, she decides.

And thus begins another fine day in Mitakihara Middle School. Today’s lunch is hamburger. Or a chocolate bar, if you’re Homura.


	7. Coming Around (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura and Tomohisa have a conversation.

She’s about to go to Madoka’s house.

For the first time this loo— Er,  _ ever _ , technically speaking. In this universe. The one that she made. They made. It’s complicated. Effectively, it feels like it’s the first time again. But also not. Again, very complicated. Still, it evokes the same sense of anxiety in her that she could never quite shake, even with her cool demeanor that simply hides everything to the best of her abilities. That horrible pit in her stomach comes back as soon as Madoka comes by her desk after school and bothers her to walk home with her anyways, since they’re going to the same place. That sinking feeling that gives the illusion of hunger without the satisfaction that eating gives. Not that she’d felt genuine hunger for a long time.

But if it makes her uncomfortable, she refuses to show it for the sake of not worrying her friend. “Just let her keep talking, don’t show weakness.” she thinks as they walk all the way there. Physical activity doesn’t make it much easier, but she endures. It only becomes worse as they close in, though, and she realizes that she hasn’t even been paying attention to what she’s talking about, just dismissing any questions with halfhearted replies.

And then they arrive, and she realizes she has to actually listen, now, instead of worrying her head off about every little detail of what’s about to happen. In a last effort, she breathes onto her hand and smells it; breath’s fine. Rubs her hair back, reaches down and flips it; straightens her posture up as much as possible, and rubs her face down too quickly for Madoka to even notice. As they step up to the door, she breathes deeply.

“Are you alright?” Madoka asks, head tilted forward as she reaches for the door.

Homura forces the words out, “Of course.”

Madoka can tell there’s something wrong and shows it on her face, but just decides to trust her to be honest and goes in anyways. Once they’ve both taken their shoes off and stepped through the hallway, Madoka announces their presence to the house, “Papaaa! I’m hooome! I brought someone over!”

He calls back from deeper in the house, “One minute, honey! I’m dealing with your brother!”

Madoka giggles, then turns to Homura, “He must have thrown up again. Hey, let me get you something to eat while we wait.”

“I’m fine, really.” Homura insists, setting her bag down on the dining room table, next to Madoka’s. She reaches in and tries to pull out another one of her granola bars as an example, “See?”

Madoka pouts as she goes around the counter, “You can’t just eat nothing but granola bars!”

So does Homura, “You don’t need to trouble yourself with me, Madoka.”

“But I want to!” Madoka whines, leaning onto the countertop.

Homura sighs, “Fine, fine. If that’ll make you happy, go ahead.”

Instantaneously, Madoka beams her back a smile, then turns around and starts rummaging through the counters for something. Meanwhile, Homura shakes her head and smiles as she whispers to herself, “ _ Adorable. _ ”

“Hm?” Madoka looks back.

“Nothing.” Homura immediately dismisses.

A moment later, Madoka comes running back and takes a seat at the table with a bag of pre-made miniature cookies.

“Isn’t that just as bad as a granola bar?” Homura points out.

Madoka, ignoring that comment, takes one out and tells her, “Come on, open up!”

Homura pulls back slightly, “This again?”

“Come on!” Madoka chipperly insists.

“Madoka, I can feed myself.”

Madoka furrows her brow and complains, “Do I need to make you a full meal?”

Homura throws her hands up defensively, “Er, no, this is fine! Really, don’t...” and trails off, knowing what comes next. “...Fine.” She holds her hair back and slowly lurches forward with her mouth slightly open, then slooowly takes the whole thing in one bite. Once swallowed, she asks, “I did it. Are you happy?”

“Yeah.” Madoka says quietly, just sort of staring with a vague blush on her cheeks.

Homura hums momentarily, then grabs one from the bag and does the same, “How about this?”

Madoka seems to snap out of her daze, “Oh, yeah!” She happily lunges forth and takes the cookie between her lips. She smiles back while chewing, eliciting a similar reaction from Homura. Once she’s done, she comments, “You’re smiling again.”

“That’s what you want, right? Doesn’t that make you happy?” Homura asks.

Madoka looks up at her with mild concern, “Well, yeah...”

“Then I’ll do it for you.” Homura places one hand on her shoulder, and pats her head with the other. “Only for you.” she whispers.

“But...” Madoka says, gently grasping her hands “...I want you to smile because you’re _ happy _ , not because I told you to.”

“I  _ am _ happy.” Homura argues, but her tone remains soft.

Madoka raises her voice a little, “But you always look so sad! Whenever you’re staring off into space, I feel like you’re thinking of something awful.”

Homura stops in her tracks, but tries her damnest to keep the smile up. She holds both of Madoka’s hands tightly and reassures her, “I... Madoka... Whatever happened in the past doesn’t matter. Right here and now, I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Madoka can’t help but look down, “Even if you say that, I’m still going to...”

Homura sighs, having lost the ability to keep her smile up. Instead, she suddenly leans forward and envelopes Madoka in another spontaneous hug. This time, it’s silent, but she doesn’t really need to say anything. Madoka’s surprised at first, but quickly gives in and hugs her back, closing her eyes and rubbing her head against her shoulder. They both take a deep, relieving breath and...

“So who’s your friend?” Tomohisa says from across the room.

Both of the girls jump like startled rabbits and quickly assume the stiff standing position, blushing from sheer embarrassment.

Madoka speaks up first, “Ah, Papa! Don’t startle us like that!”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I just got done with this little troublemaker...” he pats Tatsuya on the back, who he’s carrying in one arm “...and thought I’d see the new face! So, why don’t you introduce me?”

Her embarrassment fading, Madoka does so without hesitation, “Oh, right. Papa, this is Homura-chan.”

“Ah, the one and only.” Tomohisa quips with a playful chuckle.

Homura narrows her eyes, “...One and only?”

He briefly explains, “You’re all she’s been talking about, recently! Ever since she transferred in, we always get to hear something about you when she comes home.” For some reason, that reminds him, “Oh, Madoka, I called your mother as soon as I was done. She’ll be home early today. Just in time for dinner!”

Madoka smiles, “That’s good. I really wanted her to meet her!”

“Sober.” her dad adds. They both share a laugh.

Immediately, Madoka follows up, “So what are you making?”

As he walks on by the two, towards the refrigerator, he announces, “Well, considering the special occasion, I think it would be a good opportunity to have my special hamburgers!” He takes a package of ground meat and starts the process of thawing it out.

Homura nods, “Hm. I’ve been waiting for this.”

“Eh?” Madoka asks, looking at her confusedly.

_ “Dammit! I slipped!” _ Homura curses herself internally, then tries to cover, “Well, you came from a long stay overseas, right? I’ve never had a proper western-style hamburger before...” (well that was a blatant lie) “...so I was a bit excited about the idea of it.”

“But don’t they serve burgers at a bunch of restaurants around here?” Madoka asks, still unconvinced.

Homura unintentionally scoffs, “Well, I wouldn’t call those  _ proper _ . it has to be homemade, right? Isn’t that always the best way?”

Madoka giggles at that, “If it’s papa, it is!”

Her dad chimes in, “Well, I  _ do _ pride myself on my grilling skills.”

Madoka only supports that claim, “But you’re good at everything! Even the salads, and your stew, and the cookies!”

While they go back and forth, Homura can’t help but giggle to herself just enough that nobody notices. Pretty soon, the topic goes back to restaurants, with Madoka saying that he could beat ANY one of them around here with his cooking. Following up on that, she interrupts, “Mr. Kaname?”

“Please, call me by my first name: Tomohisa.” he says.

She doesn’t correct herself and continues regardless, “Considering your talents, have you ever thought about making your own?”

He retreats from the kitchen area and decides to sit at the table, still with Tatsuya in his lap; the girls follow suit. “Well,” he reminisces “funny thing is, that used to be a dream of mine. I wanted to be a famous chef, growing my own food from a huge farm. Of course that would be a lot of work, but it’s what I always wanted to do.”

“And what happened?” Homura asks.

He chuckles, then gestures towards Madoka, “Her mother happened. That woman came in and swept me off my feet. Let’s just say that she’s assertive in more than just the company!” He laughs at his own joke.

“ _ She _ confessed to  _ you _ ?” Homura asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, something like that.” Tomohisa confirms. “At the time, it made me feel like the woman in the relationship. But looking back on it now, I think it was everyone else who was wrong. Even mom and dad thought it was weird to let a woman take the lead like that, and some of my...” he pauses and clears his throat for effect, then air-quotes “_‘friends’_ called me a future housewife. They said some other, worse things, but I think it’s best left unsaid. Anyways, skip over a small lifetime of amazing things happening one after the other and, suddenly, I’m a father, my wife’s a salarywoman, and the rest is history.”

Homura nods along through the story. To the untrained eye, it would look as if she’s merely pretending to pay attention. In reality, it was never even in previous time loops that she had the opportunity to  _ actually learn something new _ . Well, something good, anyways. Especially about Madoka’s family. Thus, she is  _ clearly _ alert and very pleasantly surprised despite her oblivious-looking poker face.

At the end of her ponderings, she asks him earnestly, with a slight bite in her tone, “...Do you ever regret it? Not being able to fulfill your dreams?”

He smiles and looks between his children as he answers, “Not for a second. I may be a backyard gardener instead of farmer, and a home cook instead of a four-star chef; but as long as I’m doing right by my family and making them happy, I can be content with my life. If anything, this is the life I never knew I wanted.”

It seems this is enough for her. That answer prompts her to finally relax and give one of the most genuine, lax smiles she’s been able to give for a long, long time. “I’m glad Madoka has such a wonderful father.” she says. “I wish I had one like you.”

That catches both of them off-guard. Madoka decides to swoop in, squeezing Homura’s hand as she asks, “Homura? Do you not...?”

Still smiling, she squeezes back and assures her, “It’s nothing to worry about. I never knew them, anyways.” She doesn’t know why she added the last part. Wouldn’t that just make her worry more? The thought slips her mind.

In what he assumes to be a gamble, Tomohisa reaches out with one hand on the table symbolically and offers with a serious stare, “Hey. If you ever need anything, please ask.”

Tatsuya mimics his motion with an enthusiastic blabber.

Homura sighs, “Really, I’m okay. The last thing I would want is to burden anybody.”

Madoka squeezes her hand harder and scoots up closer, “Homura...” She looks up at her with puppy-dog eyes, “You’re too kind... You need to take care of yourself too, you know?”

Homura smiles vanishes as she immediately apologizes, “I-I’m sorry, I... Madoka, no,  _ you’re _ the kind one. I...” She looks away for a second, realizing that what she’s saying is more likely to just make her feel  _ worse _ instead of better, so she stops completely. Doesn’t know what else to do.

Thankfully, Tomohisa interferes, “You both are. And you both deserve the best that I can offer.”

Even though she could object, Homura just stays silent. For Madoka’s sake.

And she seems to smile again, “He’s right. Let’s just relax, okay?”

Homura nods, her body having become more stiff at once, “Of course. So...you wanted to do something today?”

“Oh!” Madoka remembers. “Right, I wanted to play something with you!”

Homura’s smile returns, “Right. So what will it be? Anything is fine.”

“Uh...let’s just go and see what there is!” Madoka gets up excitedly, pulling Homura around the table and towards the living room. She follows along obediently, the two leaving Tomohisa to go back to whatever he was doing before all of this.


	8. Coming Around (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka and Homura smash.

With both of them sitting on the living room couch, sipping out-of-season hot chocolate, Homura asks, “So what do you want to play? Anything you want.”

Madoka swings her legs back and forth as she thinks, “Hmm... I dunno.”

“Well, what do you _ have _?”

“Um...” she starts pondering, getting up and sifting through the various games they have on the adjacent shelf, all Wii titles. “There’s sports, Mario Kart, Mario party, Mario---”

“You really like Mario, don’t you?” Homura chuckles.

“I guess?” Madoka says. “That one just has a lot of multiplayer games.” She continues listing things off, “Monster Hunter... Oh! Homura!”

“Yes?” Homura asks, sipping on the hot chocolate.

“Wanna smash?” Madoka asks, completely straight-faced.

Homura chokes on and nearly spills her drink, “W-What!?”

Madoka pulls out the box for Super Smash Bros Brawl, “Smash bros.”

Homura wipes her mouth off and giggles, “O-Oh, that. Yes, that’s fine.”

Madoka gives her just the _ biggest _ smile as she runs over to the TV and puts the disk into the console, then grabs two matching controllers.

“You’re probably going to beat me.” Madoka admits as she sits down. “I suck so much at this! Even papa can...”

Homura suddenly grabs her shoulder and yells, “No you don’t!”

Madoka looks shocked, “Eh?”

Homura lets go as soon as she realizes how weird that looked, “Sorry. I’m sure you’re fine at it. Don’t put yourself down.”

Madoka’s worry turns into a small smile as she pats Homura’s head, “You’re really a good person, aren’t you?”

Homura tries and fails to contain a blush, but thankfully she hears nothing about it. “Let’s just...start.” she insists coyly.

Madoka nods, “Okay!” And they’re off. Madoka, as always, chooses Kirby. Homura, having no idea what she’s doing, goes for the edgiest-looking character she can find and ends up with Meta Knight.

Madoka comments on it, “Ah! You’re like one of those competitive players, aren’t you?”

Sweat ought to make its way down Homura’s forehead, “S-Sure. Something like that, yeah.” She then looks down at the confusingly designed wiimote and wisely asks, “Hey, do you have a controller? I really prefer one.”

Luckily, they just so happen to have a classic controller, which she pulls out of the shelf and plugs in. “Better?” she asks.

“Much.” Homura replies, though still completely unaware of how to control the game.

Madoka ends up picking Pokemon Stadium 2, something which puts Homura even more on edge. When the battle starts up, Homura literally just starts mashing random buttons in quick succession, trying to figure out what they all do. Fortunately, it’s relatively simple to figure out. In the time she spends mashing, she manages to accidentally almost fling Madoka right off the stage, but she retaliates relatively quickly by turning into a 10-ton weight and doing the exact same to Homura, who doesn’t know how to recover and thus goes flying. Next, by the time she spawns in, the stage changes to electric mode where there’s conveyor belts. She manages to also accidentally trick Madoka into trying to fling her away again with the air down-B, only to land on the edge of the conveyor and go tumbling down into the bottom of the stage at the speed of sound.

Madoka’s next knockout is completely her own fault, as she gets knocked off the edge of the stage again and completely forgets which button jumps. However, Homura is not so lucky afterwards, getting completely destroyed by a flurry of strong attacks that launch her into the air and eat the last of her stocks up.

Upon the results screen, she’s simultaneously amazed but not surprised. Amazed because she somehow managed to make that look legit, but not surprised that Madoka won. Either way, Homura would win in some way.

“See?” she says “If you can beat me, you _ must _ be good!” Clever, Homura. Clever.

Madoka giggles, “Well, I guess I’m not bad, but I’m still not as good as those other people.”

Homura sighs in exasperation. Instead of arguing about it, they go into another match, this time on Spear Pillar. It’s this match where Homura would learn about final smashes. About a minute into the match, after being mercilessly slapped in the face by a sword, Homura somehow isolates the smash ball and destroys it, then notices Madoka tense up noticeably and start playing _ very _ aggressively. Not knowing what it’s supposed to do, Homura just runs up to her and keeps mashing buttons. Then time freezes; she accidentally activates the special. Doesn’t know how she did it, but the next thing she knows, Kirby is flying off the screen like a jet plane. All she can think of after doing that is, “Wow. That was cool.”

In the next minute, she loses her second stock to Cresselia using its boomerang of death to fling her off the stage. It gets Madoka too, but she recovers in time to get another smash ball. As soon as Homura sees her pop it, she knows that it’s revenge time. And then she spawns back in. And then Madoka uses it.

“...Did you just...cook me?” Homura asks with the most genuine look of confusion.

The battle continues on. At the very end, both are about neck and neck in who’s about to win (if you forget about the extra stock Madoka still has). But to seal the deal, Madoka grabs a banana peel off the stage, throws it at just the right way to immediately trip Homura, then casually runs up to her and slams her in the face with a hammer so hard that she jetisons directly into the results screen. Homura is left staring bemusedly at it, and then the two just completely crack up into hysterics at how ridiculous the finishing blow was.

“A...A banana peel!” Madoka wheezes. “It was just a banana peel! And it...!”

A normal person would be upset with the teasing, but Homura barely even notices it. She just sits there and smiles, content that Madoka’s have a good time.

“Homura?” she asks.

“Yes?”

“Are you letting me win or something?”

Homura shakes her head and chuckles, “Not in the slightest. You’re just that good, I guess.”

Madoka gives her that sweet, angelic grin that she yearns to see every single day. Sees it as a reward; one almost too good for her.

They decide to have another round. And another. And another, and another. And a dozen times. Out of all of these, Homura won about four times, all of those being the last four when she finally got a hold of the character’s moves. Of course, by then, she decides they should stop just so that Madoka wouldn’t get upset over losing.

Couldn’t have had better timing, honestly. It’d been at least an hour or two since they got here, so hearing Junko stomp into the house and announce her presence shouldn’t be surprising. Nevertheless, Homura still jumps. Madoka doesn’t notice, and instead runs towards the front door to greet her; Homura follows.

“There’s my girl!” Junko shouts, catching Madoka in her arms for a hearty hug. Tomohisa joins in with Tatsuya, and the whole family ends up in a loving embrace. Moments later, Junko notices Homura standing several feet away and staring. “Madoka, this your friend?” she asks.

Madoka nods, then turns around, “Homura, come here!” She reaches out with one arm invitingly. Homura hesitates, almost looking scared of physical contact. Madoka coaxes her a little more, “Come on, it’s okay! We’re all friends.”

Homura thinks about it for a moment, “Would that make you happy?”

“Of course, silly! Just...” Madoka sighs, but still reaches out.

Luckily, Homura gives in and approaches them carefully, being brought into the group hug but not quite giving back. Good thing they don’t particularly mind, squeezing her like a stress toy regardless. It’s nice. She’d been greeted by them like this in a previous timeline, but the sensation is still a novel and pleasant thing whenever it occurs. Perhaps she had subconsciously modified the initial conditions of the situation to make it come out this way. Maybe she really wanted it. It doesn’t matter, as it ends before she can finish the thought.

As they part, Junko asks Homura, “So Homura, is it?”

“Homura Akemi. Pleased to meet you.” Homura says with a proper curtsy.

“Oh, being fancy, are we?” Junko asks rhetorically. “Well hello to you, too!” she says, making an exaggerated bow.

Madoka pats her arm with a light blush on, “Mama, come on, that’s embarrassing!”

She shoots back up, “Sorry, sorry! Say, you picked an awfully polite girl, didn’t you?” She starts walking down the hall, towards the kitchen with Tomohisa.

Everyone follows behind her. Madoka stammers in her response, “Ah— Well, I...”

Junko chuckles, “Relax, I’m pulling your leg.”

Madoka looks down as she follows and fidgets around. Instinctively, Homura falls back and consoles her with a grazing rub of the shoulder. All it takes is a little smile from her to ease the embarrassment, and Madoka smiles back at her.

“Cute.” Junko comments as she watches them, then turns to Tomohisa, “So what’s for dinner?”

“Hamburgers, American style. Potato salad on the side. Nothing special.” he says, walking with her to the dining room/kitchen.

Junko chuckles, “Honestly, you’re always too humble. If it’s you, I’m sure it’s special, no matter what.”

They walk off laughing, talking, though the kids don’t pay much attention. Soon enough, Madoka notices that Homura’s pulled her in pretty close while they watched the two, almost mimicking their marital closeness. If she hadn’t already gotten the chance to literally sleep on her at the cafe, she’d probably be incredibly flustered, right now. Instead, she just goes with it — Homura is the one who becomes flustered and pushes herself away hastily. But not to push it, they just take their seats at the table. Across from the adults, of course.

Soon enough, they’re digging in. While Junko and Tomohisa are both rather aggressive in their approach to eating, Madoka is a bit more hesitant. Though, perhaps that’s because the burger ends up being bigger than she can reasonably fit into her mouth. She tries, though. Homura, meanwhile, is far too classy for eating with one’s hands and decides to cut the thing into chunks with a fork and knife, then eating it so delicately that everyone has to stop and stare for just a moment.

_ “Oh my god.” _ she thinks to herself upon tasting it. _ “I think this is one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Is this what real food tastes like? The only thing better is Madoka’s bentos!” _

Without realizing it, she’s frozen in place. It’s only when Junko calls her out that she snaps back into focus, “Hey, Homura, something wrong?”

“Eh?” she says “Oh, nothing. I was just a little shocked, is all. This is certainly one of the best things I’ve had in a long time.” Honesty is probably the best option, here.

Tomohisa chuckles, “Hey, no need for flattery. It’s the least I can do for someone who makes my daughter so happy.”

Both of the girls blush at that. “Papa...” Madoka trails off.

Junko smiles at them, “That’s right. Ever since you gave her that pair of ribbons on her first day back, she hasn’t been able to stop talking about you!”

Madoka tries to stop her, “Ah— Mama, please! That’s embarrassing!”

“But it’s true! Every dinner, it’s ‘I got another letter today!’ and ‘Homura looked really cool today!’ and ‘I got to talk to Homura!’ Honestly, it’s like you two have known each other for years. I was starting to wonder if one of those other girls changed their name!”

By now, Madoka is blushing from ear to ear, trying to bury her face in her hands to hide it. Homura, however, manages to somehow remain completely composed as she denies it, “I’m afraid not. We only met on that day.” Her tone, when she speaks, appears “off” enough for Madoka to uncover her face and stare at her briefly.

Still with that long face. She’s smiling; and maybe it’s just the bags under her eyes giving the impression, but she looks just a little depressed.

Junko rests her arms on the table, then her head on her hands and stares intently at Homura, “Hmm.” Homura stares back while continuing to eat, completely unfazed by her analytical glare. Eventually, Junko lets up, “Hmph. You’re one of those stoic types, aren’t you? Stoic beauty.” She grins, “God, you _ are _ really pretty. If I were in her place, I’d be hitting on you like nobody’s business!”

Madoka slams her forehead into the edge of the table, which startles everyone, and starts groaning. Homura reflexively drops her utensils and grabs her shoulder, “Madoka!? Are you okay?”

She just groans in response.

“Hey...” Homura lifts her head up, and there’s a clear red mark on her head. Well, besides the flustered blushing. “...Don’t hurt yourself.” she says softly. Again with that tone that Madoka only ever seems to hear on rare occasions. The only way she can properly describe it, is as the feeling when you lay your head onto a really soft pillow that just came out of the dryer. Like that, but with sound. And just like that, she’s lost in thought while staring right into the girl’s concerned eyes.

When she realizes she’s staring, she quickly comes out of her daze and looks away, “O-Okay. Sorry, I was just really...” but she trails off in the end.

With that out of the way, Homura slowly backs off and tries to continue her meal while stealing sideways glances.

Madoka tries to do just the same, but can’t help but notice the knowing smile that Junko shoots at her which just screams, “Oh, you _ know _ I’m gonna tease you about this.”

Of course. Everyone saw that. Everyone saw her staring right into those...beautiful, soft, dark eyes that shine like the night sky when they look at each other. Not that, like, she like LIKE likes her or, like, anything like that. Or something. She hurts herself in her confusion.

The rest of dinner is relatively quiet. Junko doesn’t dare try to embarrass anyone more than she already has, and the rest of the table isn’t very talkative in the first place. Or at least, not anymore. They’d much rather engorge themselves. And by the time it’s over, Homura decides it’s time to get up and leave.

“Thank you, but I should be going now.” she says, fetching her book bag with the utmost apathy.

Madoka shoots up, “B-But you just got here!”

Homura sighs, “Madoka, it’s been hours. Look, it’s dark out.” she comes in close and rubs her head, “Come on, we both need to get some rest for tomorrow.”

Madoka pouts, but seems to let her go. For a second. She ends up yelling, “Wait! Mama, Papa, can she spend the night?”

Everyone sighs at her. Except for Tatsuya who just coos. Junko argues, “Madoka, sweetie, it’s a school day. Maybe over the weekend.”

She looks visibly disappointed, but understanding. Hesitantly, she escorts Homura to the front door, “Well...goodnight.” she says awkwardly.

Homura returns the favor, “Goodnight. Have a lot of nice dreams.” They both smile.

But just as she’s about to leave, Madoka reaches out and nearly tackles her into a hug. Homura barely budges, but stops. She turns around and sighs, trying to speak but not finding any appropriate words. Instead, she hugs her back momentarily. When they part, she ruffles her hair and waves goodbye before disappearing into the night.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


She sits on top of a hill, twirling around the lights and among the stars, dancing eloquently and humming a faint song.

“ ………♪ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Oakfeather for helping me with the last half. Sorry for the long hiatus!


	9. A Mild Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka meets some unexpected competition in the game of love-not-love.

The searing light of day burns into Junko's eyes as she's forcefully woken up on yet another ordinary day. Oddly, not by Madoka, but by Tomohisa merely mimicking the daily routine.

“Morning!” he says, standing with his hands on his hips.

She's a bit too shocked by the change in person to respond. Or to react to Tatsuya crawling all over her. “Where's Madoka?” she asks absentmindedly.

“Ah, she's in the kitchen. Wanted to make something extra, so she told me to wake you up.” he points towards the door.

“Extra?” she wonders. After taking a minute to wake herself up, she saunters into the kitchen to see what's going on. There, she sees Madoka putting together a _very_ carefully put-together bento. Next to her own. Junko approaches carefully, “Hey, what's up with the extra?”

Madoka jumps a little, turns around, and rubs her head, “Oh, Mama! You surprised me. Eh, this is for...Homura.”

Junko crosses her arms and grins smugly, “Ah, that girl? What, you're already making her dinner?”

“Mama, I told you it's not like that!” Madoka whines.

“Mhm.”

She rolls her eyes and continues to fix the bento to completion, “She just doesn't eat enough. I want to make sure she isn't starving herself to death...”

Junko loses the smug grin with a sigh, “She _did_ seem pretty thin. Almost anorexic.”

“With what I always see her with at lunch, I get really worried. I don't if it's because she doesn't want to or if she's really _that_ poor.” Madoka starts to ramble, looking almost depressed.

Junko pats her on the back, “Madoka...do you know what her situation is like?”

She stops for a moment, “...I don't know if Papa told you or not, but she...doesn't have parents.”

“No parents..? Who's taking care of her?” Junko asks, dumbfounded.

“I don't know. I think she just lives alone.” Madoka guesses, still looking down.

Junko sighs. She stands in silent thought for a few moments before she suddenly rubs her daughter's head, “Madoka, you're a good girl, but don't go taking everything on yourself. Tell your father if you need another for her, alright? Let us help, too.”

“N-No, I need to do it myself.” Madoka insists, her fists clenched against the table as she prepares to be shot down.

A short silence ensues. Junko eventually replies, “I can't convince you otherwise, can I?” It takes Madoka by surprise. She looks up at her mother who continues, “Alright. We'll just have to get a little more next time we go shopping. For her.” She turns around to leave, “I'm going to get ready for work.”

“...Okay.” Madoka says, still pleasantly surprised.

The morning continues as normal. Though, a bit more quiet than usual.

* * *

It's unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable! For the first time ever, she's actually _late_. Well, not too late. Just late enough to miss going to class with Sayaka, Kyouko, Hitomi, and Kyosuke. Spent too much time with that cat! Thankfully, the bell hasn't rung yet. But when she finally gets there, fetches today's letter and her shoes out of her locker and makes her way up to the connecting hallway, someone comes running up to her with a request.

Some meek-looking boy she's seen in class but can't remember the name of. He shoves an envelope forward at her and bows as he speaks, “Y-You're friends with Homura, right!? Can you please give her this letter?”

She hesitantly takes the blank envelope from him, an equally blank stare on her face gazing down at it.

He starts to over-explain, “I...I meant to give it to her in person, but I lost my nerve. Then I wanted to put it in her locker, but I was late, so please do this favor for me! I'll repay you however you want!”

In the background, a child with beautiful orange locks — the clara doll Yakimochi — stares at them from around the corner. It smiles, its eyes red. Madoka just notices it, but decides to ignore it.

With his head still bowed deeply, she answers, “...Sure.” and takes the letter despite the sinking pit in her stomach which has suddenly formed. He thanks her and runs along bashfully.

The child runs away, too; into the girls' bathroom. Madoka follows it slowly, but on the way in notices two more marching in the opposite direction: One with a long, pointy-looking scepter and the other with a weird cowl — Ibari and Nekura. She ignores them.

But the child she followed isn't anywhere to be found, seemingly having vanished into thin air. The thought of that runs a chill up her spine, but it doesn't outclass the pain in her gut originating squarely from the piece of paper in her hand.

“Well...” she says, gulping while walking into a stall, “...It couldn't hurt if I just looked. I mean, I don't want her to get seduced by a creep or anything. He seemed nice, but you never know...”

She carefully opens the envelope, making sure not to tear it too obviously. She's clumsy and nervous, so it doesn't quite work, but she can just present the letter without the envelope, right? Still...

She starts to read it. Well, it seems normal enough. Almost too normal. “I mean, she also deserves someone really good, right? Only the best of the best. She's so beautiful, after all, and kind... It... It can't just be anyone!”

She continues reading, her hands shaking ever more until the end. By the end, she has reached the point of two conclusions: The back of her head nags her incessantly to trash it. This person is clearly not worthy. What if she accepts? What if she gets stolen away? The idea is unthinkable, but she has to consider it to her horror. The other is the angel on her shoulder, telling her to honor the request. After all, Homura might think the same! ...But if she doesn't...?

We're all human. This time, just this once, she takes it as a warning. She can hear faint giggling at the entrance which tips her conscience right over — she quickly rips the letter up and flushes it down the toilet with the envelope.

For a moment, all is quiet. She's staring down at the bowl, a bit shocked with her own behavior once she realizes what she just did. The feeling of jealousy is replaced with a vague guilt.

“I just...” she tries to speak, just to herself. She gulps and slowly exits the stall, approaches the sink, washes her hands, and leaves with an unreadable poker-face forced onto her. She continues to class as if nothing happened, but each step feels heavy.

Thankfully, Saotome hasn't shown up yet. Everyone is just acting normally. Sayaka greets her normally while she sits down, and quickly pops the usual question, “So, what's today's message?”

“I...haven't read it.” she admits to her own surprise. But at the same time, she feels like she shouldn't for some reason.

“Hmm...” Sayaka hums, leaning forward while sitting backwards in her chair, staring suspiciously as if pondering something.

Kyouko, who is sitting on top of her desk, asks, “...The fuck are you doing? Mentally undressing her?”

Sayaka swats backwards ineffectually, “Oh shut your trap! I am _not!_” Her reaction only increases Kyouko's smug level. Ignoring that, Sayaka explains by asking Madoka, “Hey, something up? You don't look quite right.”

Apparently, her “unreadable poker face” isn't quite as unreadable as she'd hoped it would be, as Hitomi agrees, “Yes, I noticed that as well.”

As does Kyouko, “Actually, yeah. Looks like you just went and killed someone!” She laughs at that, but Madoka's sudden guilty expression makes her reconsider her jest, “...Wait, you didn't, did you?”

She quickly defends herself, “What!? No, no! I could never do that!”

Sayaka also casually defends her, “Nah, she still faints at the sight of blood!”

The continued nonchalant teasing makes Madoka nearly plant her face into the desk in frustration, instead covering it with both hands. She lets them go on for a moment before she admits, “Well... I... I did do something..._bad. _I-I know it was, I don't know why, but I just—!”

They all took it as a joke at first, but only until Madoka starts audibly sobbing. At that point, Sayaka instinctively jumps up and tries to console her, “Whoa, whoa, Madoka; what's up? Here, just whisper it at me...”

She gets up close and almost literally lends her an ear, in which she whispers, “I... A boy came up to me in the hall and asked me to give a confession letter to Homura...”

Sayaka seems unimpressed, “...Okay.”

“...And I said I would give it to her since he was too nervous.”

Sayaka rolls her eyes, “...Alright.” She wants to rush her along given roundabout she can be, but fights that instinct like it's the bubonic plague.

“...But I went to the bathroom first, and... Something just kind of _took over_, and I...”

Sayaka nods along eagerly, barely able to contain it.

“I ripped it up and flushed it down the toilet.”

It takes a moment for Sayaka to parse this. Not because it's shocking. Which it mildly is. Madoka's not the type to be so...aggressive? Malicious? Either, really. But jealousy is also pretty understandable, especially with Hitomi sitting just a foot or so away. So...understandable...and somewhat underwhelming.

“Is that it?” she ends up blurting out.

“Y-Yeah...” Madoka stammers, caught off-guard.

Sayaka just holds back laughing aloud, instead opting for a restrained chuckle, “M-Madoka... That's not that bad. I mean, it's bad to do something like that, but I would have done the same.”

Kyouko half-shouts at her, “That's not sayin' much!”

Sayaka throws her head back and shouts back at her, “You didn't even hear her!”

“Don't need to!” Kyouko rebukes.

Sayaka can't think of a good comeback, so she just scoffs and turns back to Madoka, “Ignore her, she just likes to mess with people. So what are you going to do, now?”

But Madoka's just giving her an odd expression, maybe slightly mad, “Sayaka...do you like Homura like that?”  
  


Sayaka furrows her brow in bewilderment, “...What? No, no. I mean if I were _you, _I would have done that too.”

“Well of course, you would be _me_.” Madoka argues, unaware of the figure of speech.

Sayaka's head slips out of her hand and fumbles directly into the desk. She groans, “...Madoka, it's...” she sighs and shakes her head “Never mind. So what are you going to do?”

She looks down in thought, but only needs a moment to guess the answer, “I...should probably tell her, right?”

Hitomi comes out from behind and whisper-shouts, “Yes! Yes, you have to do it; don't just break the girl code like that!”

Sayaka pushes her away reflexively, “Oi! Hitomi, what'd we tell you about the eavesdropping habit!?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Hitomi apologizes as she shuffles back to her seat.

“Anyways...” Sayaka sighs “...I mean, that's a pretty 'you' thing to do, I guess. Yeah, go and—” she glances over at where Homura is sitting, only to find Homura glaring right back at her with a daggery stare so cold it could freeze water solid on contact. Sayaka immediately looks back away and whispers, “Shit! She's looking _right at us_! Can she hear us!?”

Madoka also looks at her, though not quite as affected by the glare as Sayaka was. She rubs her friend's head sympathetically and gets out of her seat without another word, clears her throat, and approaches while the others watch curiously.

And her answer is...anticlimactic? After explaining the situation to a very placid-looking Homura and elaborating on the exact wording of the letter, she barely even reacts while she stands up and leaves to address the author who Madoka kindly points out among the slew of classmates.

She approaches the boy's desk (who is absolutely ablaze with a nervous blush), and says one word. From the abject, perhaps unsurprised but still completely crushed look on the boy's face, her answer must have been a brief “No.” or something along those lines. She doesn't stick around to wait for a rebuttal or response; she just says the word, makes sure he gets the message, and then walks right back to her desk with the absolute most apathetic-looking flourish she can muster.

Without warning, Kyouko shouts at the top of her lungs, “OOOOOH! SHOT THE FUCK DOOOOOOOOWN!”

Sayaka practically tackles her off the top of her desk to make her stop yelling. Nobody knows what she's talking about besides the people involved, but it still manages to embarass everyone.

Once that ordeal's done with, Madoka tries to carry on the topic clumsily, “So, uh... I guess you don't like flowery things like that?”

No answer. Homura turns and starts staring outside the classroom again.

“Or maybe you don't like things like love letters? Do you like when people are direct?”

Homura groans just enough for her to hear.

“Or...maybe you don't like ones like that? You probably deserve someone better. Like, handsome and fit and tall; maybe an athlete or...”

Homura grits her teeth and clenches a fistful of her own hair. Noticing the visible frustration (but not the internal screaming), Madoka decides to back off.

“Sorry, am I being annoying?” she asks half-heartedly, clutching her chest. “I'll just...leave you alone.”

But before she can leave, Homura suddenly springs her hand out and grabs hers tightly. Though surprised, she doesn't move, and they just stand there and hold hands for a short time. It seems a tight squeeze was enough to send a message.

“...Just in a bad mood?” Madoka guesses. “It's alright. Hey, we can walk home together, today, if you'd like. Okay?”

Homura can't help but glance over when she dips her head to the side and gives a wide, innocent smile. She almost smiles, herself. Stops short, though. “Yeah.” is her only response.

Madoka rubs her shoulder for a moment before she starts heading back to her seat, “I'll leave you alone, now. Seeya later!”

Homura vaguely waves at her, holding back how much she actually wants to reach out and tell her to stay a bit longer. Moderation is key, she resolves, and restrains herself from showing any emotion. Though, the thought of how things are going so far _does_ put a smile on her face.

Madoka returns to her seat and reads her own little daily note, this time reading the mundane but flattering, “You are adorable.” Of course the others tease her about it, but she stopped caring the last time they did. If anything, it's turned into a fun game to guess who might be the one sending them. They never guess correctly, but they don't know that. One event leads into another, and the day fades again to a rough haze as they all walk together into a yellow horizon.


	10. Headbutting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayaka and Kyouko argue, then Homura talks about her adventures in Lordran.

It's a fine, warm evening in Mitakihara, and our girls have picked today to eat out at their usual cafe, though two of them happen to be late. In the meantime...

“...So then I started _break dancing_ on the panel.” Sayaka says, mid-explanation to a dumbfounded-looking Hitomi.

“You call THAT break dancing?” Kyouko shouts at her. “I know _dogs_ that can break dance better than you!”

“You're just mad that you lost!” Sayaka shoots back.

“Ah-ah, I didn't lose! I got the better score!”

“The crowd liked me better!”

Hitomi decides it's best to not interrupt their headbutting. Instead, she opts to nibble on a french fry for a solid minute. It stopped being a pleasant experience after about ten seconds.

Then, finally, the late parties appear out of left field. Madoka calls out to everyone, “Sayaka! Kyouko! Hitomi!”

Sayaka stops bickering for a second to wave back, “Hey, looks like Pinky and The Brain made it!”

Madoka slides in on Hitomi's side with a tray of food and a strange look, “Uh... What?”

Homura does the same, sitting right next to Madoka. Hitomi ends up being forcefully smooshed against the back like a third (or fifth) wheel. Would have moved anyways, but it's... you know, whatever.

But anyways, Homura adds to that, “I agree: What?”

Sayaka backs down from explaining, “Eh, never mind.”

Homura rolls her eyes, “So what are you idiots yelling about, now? We could hear you from the previous floor.”

Madoka scolds her, “Homura, that's not nice.” In response, she gets her head rubbed.

Sayaka explains, “Well, I was just telling Hitomi about that time I beat Kyouko's ass at DDR. But _she_ can't accept the fact that I was just more fabulous than she'll ever be!”

“Mhm.” Homura hums sarcastically, taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh, whatever.” Kyouko dismisses.

“Sore loser.” Sayaka mocks.

“You're the sore loser!”

“No, you.”

“No, _you!_”

“No, _**you.**_”

Kyouko grits her teeth, then smiles devilishly, “Well at least I put my panties on the right way that day, backwards-ass!”

Homura nearly spits out and chokes on her coffee simultaneously. Sayaka holds Kyouko's mouth shut and yells at her, “You said you wouldn't tell anyone about that!”

Kyouko forcefully removes her hand and starts giggling at her, “H-How do you go an entire day like that and not even notice!? HA!”

She tries to hide it, but even Homura is giggling at her. Madoka darts between the two of them and complains, “Guys, stop! This is...!”

Before she can finish, Hitomi stops her, “Don't. Just let them go at it.”

“Eh!? Why?”

“They always make up afterwards.”

“But—”

“Always.”

They both shut up. Unfortunately, the bickering doesn't stop. Sayaka eventually retaliates, “Yeah? Well while we're at it, remember that time you stuck two pocky sticks up your nose and pretended to bark like a walrus!?”

“WHAT!?” Kyouko sharply squeaks.

“AND YOU ATE THEM ANYWAYS AFTERWARDS!”

“SHUT UP, THAT WAS PRIVATE!”

“SO WAS THE UNDERWEAR!”

Her plan backfires. Instead of becoming more aggressive, Kyouko slaps her in the back of the head and...starts tearing up? She cries out, “You idiot, I did that to cheer you up because you were still depressed about that guy!”

The laughing dies down and everyone stares intently at the two. Sayaka, suddenly frozen in place, slowly raises her hands up in surrender, “Uh... Ah, shit.” She glances at the others nervously, then back at Kyouko, “I uh... Sorry.”

Kyouko is still staring daggers at her. And overwhelming sense of guilt suddenly crushes Sayaka, who eats her pride whole. She whispers, “Hey, I'm sorry, alright? Just got a little heated. Can— ...Let me treat you, alright? Would another tray make you feel better?”

Kyouko hesitates to answer, “...A little.”

“I'll get you another tray, alright?”

Kyouko nods.

“Truce?”

The two stare at each other for a moment. Kyouko sighs, “Truce. But you better make it up more, later.”

“I got it, don't worry.” The two shakes hands, then pull each other into a one-armed hug complete with a pat on the back. Sayaka gets up to order her another tray.

Madoka, in awe, comments, “Wow, it's like...”

“Magic?” Hitomi finishes.

Homura twitches.

“Yeah,” Madoka agrees “magic.”

Twitches again. To take the edge off, Homura, comments as well, “I've never seen two girls act more like frat boys than I have watching _you two_ interact.”

“Ah, whatever.” Kyouko waves her off, not feeling like dealing with her sass right now.

“I'm a little jealous.” Homura adds.

“Yeah, well, maybe one day you can learn the secret handshake.” Kyouko says sarcastically.

Homura nearly drops her drink, “..._Secret handshake?_ Are you serious? This just gets better and better.”

Madoka starts giggling. When prompted, she says, “Sorry, it's just cute.”

Well, that backfired. Kyouko changes the subject, “Whatever. Hey, Homura, been meaning to ask since yesterday: How was that game?”

“What, Dark Souls?”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty good.”

Kyouko raises an eyebrow, “Come on, you gotta tell me more than that. What happened? Don't spare the details.”

Homura sighs, puts down her drink, and starts going through everything she remembers.

“Well, I started it off and thought, 'Oh, this isn't going to be hard. Modern games never are.' So I decided to start with what _I_ thought looked like the hardest way to play.”

“Class and gift?” Kyouko skips straight to the point.

“Deprived. Old Witch's Ring.”

Kyouko chokes on herself, “D-D-Deprived!? You're either a masochist or already played this and just aren't telling me!”

Homura rolls her eyes, “Hey, I just wanted a challenge. And, well, I got it. Learning the controls was relatively easy. Then that demon jumped down from the ceiling.”

“Oh, this is gonna be _good_.”

“...And then I spent the next hour beating it to death with my fists.”

Kyouko outright slams her hands on the table, startling everyone in the room while she howls out in hysterics, “OH GOD! OH DEAR LORD, HELP ME I'M DYING! AAAAAH!” She nearly drops on the floor and tries to laugh as hard as humanely possible, but all that comes out is dry heaving. When she recovers, she shouts out incredulously, “YOU... YOU FISTED THE ASYLUM DEMON TO DEATH!”

Homura grimaces while holding her eardrums shut lightly, “I would _really_ prefer you not put it like that.”

“Oh, don't worry, it's female.” Kyouko adds.

Homura makes a face somewhere between disgust, shock, and fascination, “I— What!?”

This only makes Kyouko keel over harder. When she recovers again, she corrects herself, “N-No, wait. No, I'm thinking of something else. I think. Just...go on.”

Homura hesitates, but goes on for lack of anything else to talk about, “...Anyways, I killed it and got its weapon, then I went through the door to the left and found mine. Found the guy that gives you the flask and the key, then got out of that place as fast as possible. Come down to the bonfire place—”

“Firelink?”

“Yes. Look around for a bit, found everything, I think. Found a graveyard—”

“Oh no.”

“...Yes, 'Oh no.' I actually managed to get pretty far into there before I found the giant ones. Honestly, they were such a pain to deal with that I just took their sword and walked away.”

“Zweihander?”

“Whatever it's called. The big one.”

At that point, Sayaka comes running over with another tray of food; sets it down in front of Kyouko and slides back into the booth, “Alright, what did I miss?”

Kyouko explains, “Oh, she's just telling us about how her first time with the ol' Souls has been.”

“Oh god.” Sayaka cringes.

“Oh, you know it.”

“The one you made me play?”

“The one I made you _beat_.”

“Oh _god_.” Sayaka says in horror.

Homura interrupts them, “Are you two done?”

They both nod, so she continues the explanation, meticulously detailing how she eventually found the cliffside to the Undead Burg and fought through it with nothing but a wooden club and scrap metal. In the midst of it, Madoka looks over to Hitomi and asks, “Uh...is it just mean, or does it feel like we got sidelined?”

“You get used to it.” is her response. Madoka gulps.

Homura finishes up most of it, “...So then I run into that dragon on the bridge. Die twice. Kick the ladder down, and then decided to go someplace else. You know that better club I bought? Well, it proved _very_ effective at killing skeletons.”

“Don't tell me...” Kyouko says..

“So I went back to the graveyard.”

She shouldn't be surprised, she knows she shouldn't be surprised, but some part of her was hoping she wouldn't hear that. She slams her foot into the floor while grinning like an idiot and trying to keep the laughter down before they get kicked out (again).

“So they ended up being really easy with a new weapon. Managed to kill the big ones, then found a secret entrance to some catacomb.”

Should have seen this part coming, but it's still proving difficult for Kyouko to not explode.

“So I go in, and there's this _army_ of _immortal_ skeletons.”

Kyouko starts slamming her forehead into the table. Throughout the next half hour, Homura proceeds to tell them about how she figured out the secret to the skeletons' immortality, died so many times she stopped counting, had to fight three skeletons, several bonwheels, and a black knight at the bottom of the ravine, and then died to the boss. Five times.

Kyouko completely loses her fight with her own vocal cords when she hears that last part, “YOU DIED TO PINWHEEL!? NOBODY DIES TO PINWHEEL! HOW!?”

“My weapon broke! All I had left was a _stick!_”

“What about the blacksmith!?”

“_What_ blacksmith!?”

Kyouko holds onto Sayaka for dear life while she loses her shit. In an act of mercy, she briefly explains, “Okay, okay... Just... There's a blacksmith named Vamos down there. He's a skeleton, too. I know, you're probably sick of skeletons, but he's the only one who can make fire weapons. I'll show you how to get to him later. Just...keep going. Did... Please tell me you didn't rest at the bonfire in the Tomb of Giants.”

“Oh god, no.” Homura reassures her. “I saw that and just warped back. Had enough of that place. I don't want to see another skeleton for a week. At least.”

“Okay. Okay, good. I would have actually felt sorry for you if you trapped yourself down there. So wait, what did you beat Pinwheel with? You fists?”

“No. God, no.” Homura shudders to think. “No, I picked up some..._magic_ from a guy in a prison cell and beat it with that.”

“What mask'd you get?”

“I think it was... Mask of the Father?”

“Nice.”

“What?”

Sayaka and Kyouko glance at each other knowingly. The latter says, “We'll show you when you get further. So what happened next?”

“Well to tell you the truth, that's where I put it down.”

“Oh thank god, I thought I was going to die.” Kyouko sighs with relief. “Seriously. Started as deprived, fisted the asylum demon to death, went to the graveyard first, killed Taurus with bombs instead of plunging attacks, early Rite, AND died to pinwheel! You somehow managed to commit almost every cardinal sin of a first playthrough! I mean, at least Blighttown won't give you much trouble if you managed all of THAT.”

“_What_ town?” Homura asks.

“Buy purple moss.”

“What?”

“Just do it, you masochistic idiot. As much fun as watching you go through that entire place without any would be, I'd like you to beat the game in this century.”

“Whatever you say.” Homura tells her. Mostly to just make her shut up, already.

By the end of this seemingly endless conversation, everyone's finished their food and Homura's coffee has gone cold. If she cares, she doesn't show it. Hitomi is the first to leave, having some antiquated flower arranging class to go to by her mother's mandate. Kyouko and Sayaka are next, needing to leave before the former has security called on her for disturbing the peace for the dozenth time. Thus leaves our two protagonists.

“So.” Madoka says.

“Yes?” Homura asks, her voice suddenly going from the semi-hoarse groan she was using with the others to a softer whisper.

“Sounds like you had...fun?”

“Some kind.”

“Yeah... Should we leave, too?”

“We can sit here for a bit longer.”

“That could work.”

They both sit back and relax a little from the ordeal they just had to sit through. Then, Madoka starts nuzzling up against her shoulder. Homura looks down on her and remembers that they just basically ignored her for an entire conversation. The guilt fuels her to wrap an arm around Madoka's shoulders. She gladly accepts the invitation.

Homura asks, though she already knows the answer, “I guess you're the touchy type, aren't you?”

As if she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Madoka recoils away and apologizes, “O-Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to be clingy, I just—”

Homura pulls her back in and reassures her, “It's okay. I don't mind. You do whatever you need to.” Half because she really likes it, half because she feels guilty for not paying more attention to her.

Either way, it works. Madoka relaxes back into her. Not as much as before, but enough to matter. There, she asks, “So what do you want to do this weekend?”

“Aren't you having me over?”

She giggles, “I know, silly! I mean, what will we _do_?”

“I figured you had something in mind.”

“Well... Just more of the same.”

“...Do you need me to bring something?”

“No, no! You don't need to do that, just...tell me what _you_ want to do.”

Now, Homura had never thought about _that_. As far as she's concerned, anything Madoka wants to do is fine. But now the problem arises where they're both being too curteous. Ultimately, she decides that it's best not to fret about it and just give in, “Well, I was just hoping to finally get a good night's rest for once.”

It catches Madoka off-guard. “Eh? Homura...do you not sleep well?”

Caught red-handed. No real way out of this one that won't seem disengenuous, so she just tells the truth. “Well, not really. It gets...loney, over there.”

Inside, she's screaming at herself, _“Wait, what? What am I doing!? I'm supposed to be the cool and unapproachable girl that can handle anything on her own, not some troubled youth with emotional problems! Now she's going to want to pamper me!”_

Madoka's response is predictable, “Homura, that's no good. You won't need to sleep alone anymore, alright? I'll keep you company. On weekends, anyways.” She hugs her. Tightly. More guilt overwhelms her, such that she can't take it anymore and has to push Madoka away.

“Sorry, I have to go do something!” Homura bullshits. In reality, she's just running away again. Madoka is worried for a moment, but remembers that these things take time, and they're going to see each other again tomorrow, anyways. And they can call later, if she picks up. Not that big of a deal when you think about it. Well, she goes home. Her mom would love to hear about THIS little episode, later.


	11. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura spends the night at Madoka's house.

It seems like the weekend came by in a flash. Compared to her months and years looping through the same time frame over and over, Homura had gotten used to the flow. Each day, a meticulous struggle or something so easy that she just dissociates the entire time. Something like being able to carelessly let days pass without worry is still completely alien. Though, in a good sort of way. A nostalgic way. Not a particularly good type of nostalgic, but the sense of fulfilling a longing desire far outclasses any disappointment she could feel.

Of course, Madoka's presence also helps her forget everything else. She had almost forgotten about the sleepover Madoka promised last time she came over, but Madoka luckily called her the night before. Letting herself go could wait a day, at least.

“Alright, you two, try not to stay up _too _late. Homura, if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask.” Junko lectures the two as they sit in Madoka's room, pajamas already slipped on.

“Understood.” Homura responds flatly.

Junko sighs at her formality, “Alright.” and dips out to go to bed, herself. Or at least, that's what the “kids” think.

As soon as she's gone, the two start talking. Madoka asks, a bit worried, “Homura, I meant to ask... Is something wrong? You haven't said much since dinner. Was the food bad?”

Homura waves her hands in denial, “Eh? No, no. It was good!” Amazing, actually. Best curry she's had in... Well, time is an abstract concept, anyways.

“So what's wrong?” Madoka asks again, rolling over on the bed so that her head is hanging upside-down off the side.

Homura, sitting on the floor against the bedside, hesitates to answer. “Well...” she murmurs “...It's nothing, really. I'm more concerned with what you want to spend tonight doing.”

Madoka frowns and grumbles, but concedes, “Well, I guess we could play something. I mean, I wanted to talk, but...”

“We can talk at the same time.” Homura points out.

Madoka pauses for a second, then chuckles to herself, “That's... That's right. Well, we can't really go back down and play on the Wii again since Mama and Papa are going to bed. But! I've got the computer over there...” she points at the desk “...and a— Oh!” She suddenly remembers with a gasp, “Homura, come here! Up here! I wanna show you my Pokemon!”

At the same time that it's absolutely adorable, Homura also can't help but become sweat-inducingly nervous. It would be easy to slip up and make her true tastes known. This has become a dangerous situation, but she isn't in a position to decline, either. Reluctantly, she climbs onto the bed...

“Here, lie back.” Madoka says, arranging the pillows on her bed against the headboard like a makeshift chair and then patting them. While Homura lies back against the arrangement with an awkward smile, Madoka fetches a 3DS out of a nearby drawer and throws herself back onto the bed.

To Homura's surprise, she sits down right between her legs and leans back into her as if it's normal. Homura has to catch herself from a sudden faint feeling that overcomes her. Madoka's definitely the touchy type, but this soon... It's almost odd; a bit hard to get used to even after everything that's happened. Though, Madoka seems completely comfortable with the idea, so Homura just dismisses it as her being difficult. Best to hide such things.

But on Madoka's side, it's a much different story. Internally, she starts to panic, wondering if this is too close. _“This is something friends do, right? Yeah.” _or something along those lines runs through her head, causing her to become slightly red.

By the time Homura's sorted out her emotions and cautiously wrapped herself around Madoka in a light hug, she's already started up the game. And it's...familiar.

“...Alpha Sapphire?” Homura asks of the title screen.

“Yep! I think it's one of the newer ones.” Madoka says with clear excitement.

Homura clearly hadn't been keeping up too well with new releases if a remake of the only generation she's ever really played managed to slip under her radar. In truth, she's rather intrigued by it. Then Madoka pulls up her save. _200 hours_. Nowhere near what Homura logged into Emerald, but still a _damn_ long time for a casual. Didn't imagine a normal person would do more than beat the story. She doesn't say anything as to not arouse suspicion.

The first thing that strikes her is that the thing is in _fucking 3D_. True, the console games existed before, but this time it actually looked _really_ good. And on a main game, too. Madoka doesn't spend too much time on it, though, skipping right to the party screen.

“Okay!” she says “So, here's the first one.” The first she brings up is obviously her starter. And Homura actually cannot believe her eyes. It's a _Torchic_. Her _starter_. At level _95_. _**Unevolved**_.

She has to actually hold back from saying anything. Surely Madoka, who values cute things, just kept it like that because she didn't want it to lose its cute factor. Then she goes to the moveset.

“_By god.”_ Homura thinks to herself. It knows Quick Attack_ (“Okay, priority moves are decent.”_), Rock Smash (_“Oh Madoka, no.”_), Return (_“Another normal type!? I guess it's high power, but...”_), and Ember (_“Wh-What? Why!?”_). Needless to say, it is...not the most optimized or strategically viable thing on the planet. And its held item is...Charcoal. Well, it could be worse.

In her internal ranting, she completely neglects to listen to Madoka's rambling, “So this is Toot, my starter! Isn't it cute? It's like a little chicken! Ah, it's a bit funny. I had to restart the game because it evolved and wasn't cute anymore, so I had to do a bunch of stuff over again! I know it's not the best, but I really like it.”

Just as she suspected. They move on. Next is...a Beautifly, level 100. Not a great choice, but it'll get through the game fine. But again, the moves...

“_Silver Wind? Morning sun... Attract? Why does it still have Gust!?”_ This one has the razor claw of all things equipped. Better than nothing?

Madoka comments, “I don't usually like bugs, but like, aren't butterflies pretty? I kind of got this one by mistake, but I'm glad I kept it!”

“Y-Yeah...” Homura blindly agrees despite herself.

Next is a pretty standard Swellow that she nicknamed Momo. God knows why she picked that name...well, she _is _technically, but that's beside the point. Anyways, nothing special. Fly, Wing Attack, Quick Attack (again), and Double Team. Not actually that bad. Yet for some reason, it's behind the rest of the party at 83.

“She's really pretty, huh?” Madoka asks.

“Wha...? Oh, yeah.” Homura snaps out of her internal ranting.

“...Not as much as you...” she mumbles.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Madoka smiles back at her.

Weird.

Next is...well, this one she's definitely never seen before. It looks like one of the eeveelutions, but she doesn't recall those being in this region. This one looks weird as hell, too, with ribbons all over it and blue, glazed-over eyes. Pink and white and blue all over. Somehow, the color pallette looks familiar, but she can't quite place her finger on it.

Madoka explains, “This one's a really new one! Called Sylveon. Well, I named her _Eleanor_.” She says the last part with a whispy, faux-fanciful accent to add flavor, which earns her a fond chuckle from Homura. Well, this one certainly fits her. A strange type, too, “Fairy.” Must be new. She can't really guage its strength, but assumes it's about average from the rest of her team.

The next is a level 82 Marill. Again, unevolved. Nickname: Pyon. It's moves...

“_No... They're all HMs!”_ Homura yells in her head, having to pull at her hair to not actually yell in frustration. Strength, Surf, Waterfall, and Dive. Well, at least they're strong.

Madoka tells her, “I just really use this one to kind of get around, but it got me past a few hard parts, so I decide to keep it there.”

She seems to be losing a bit of her enthusiasm by the time they get to the last one, though. It's a special one, though: A level 100 Gardevoir named Magi. Now, this is _definitely_ not bad. In fact, Homura starts to wonder how on earth she managed to get lucky enough to find one in the first place. They're supposed to be really rare and only found in one location.

Regardless, she listens to the explanation, “When I saw Wally go and get one of these things, I thought, 'Oh my god, it's so _cute_, I have to have it!' And I spent a whole day just running around in the grass trying to find one! I didn't know it would be so strong, though. It was kind of like a baby when I first got it, now it's a...”

She falls silent for a moment. “I...don't actually know what it's supposed to be.”

Homura pats her on the head, “I'm sure it's fine. Maybe it's a dancer, or a magical knight.”

Madoka hums, “Hm... I never really thought about it. I just thought it looked pretty.”

Homura hums back. Despite only taking maybe 10 minutes at most, she's already feeling a bit exhausted from the endeavor of resisting her rising rant, “So, anything else you wanted to show me?”

“Oh!” Madoka remembers “Right, the rest of them!”

“...The rest of them?” Homura asks, knowing full well what she means. “Just how many more...?”

“About 300!” Madoka answers with an innocent smile.

“Three...hundred?” Homura asks, palms becoming sweaty at the thought of combing through that breadth.

“It won't take long, I promise! We'll just look at them!” Madoka pleads.

Homura sighs. Her one weakness: ...Well, it should be obvious at this point. “...Okay.” she says softly, grinning when Madoka does and regains her excitement. She heads over to the PC and starts scrolling through all the things she's caught...

* * *

Scrolling through all of those weird, cute, wonderful, new creatures took at least an hour of their time, but it was at least enjoyable. Really, Homura just revelled in the opportunity to listen to Madoka go on and on about which ones were her favorites, which ones were the cutest (though she didn't have the heart to call any of them ugly even if they were), and the little stories behind them all. In the end, they just got a bit tired of it and put the game away, with Madoka promising that she'd get Homura a copy of the Omega Ruby so that they could trade and battle together. Well, if this is a good way to pretend she's just getting into the game, then so be it.

The rest of the night was just as relaxed. They spent the entirety of it just lying in bed, eating snacks and watching weird MMD videos on NicoNico Douga. They even managed to stumble upon a recording of that DDR battle that Kyouko and Sayaka had that one time, courtesy of someone from the crowd making use of their phone camera. Sayaka really did lose that one, they both agreed. But by the time they realized how late it had become, it was already a bit past midnight.

Getting out of bed to stretch for once, Madoka comments, “Hey...we really didn't do much, did we?”

Homura disagrees, “As long as it was fun, does it matter?”

“Well...” Madoka begins to doubt.

Homura walks over to her and ruffles her hair, “Even if it's not exciting, it can still be fun. Anyways, I enjoyed it.”

Madoka smiles back at her, “Homura... You're really the quiet and gentle type, aren't you?”

Homura stops mid-stretch with a strange look between confusion and concern, then shoots back, “Aren't _you_?”

Madoka smiles even wider, “Ah, well...I guess. I do like to just curl up in bed and read a lot, and don't really yell or try to act up...”

Homura sighs and takes her into a mild hug, which she returns. “Don't worry about it.” she says “You're you, and that's that. That's what I was saying. Now, let's get to bed.”

The two separate after a brief moment and Madoka nods, “Yeah. Mama will know if we stay up late.”

So they get ready. Madoka fixes her pillows back into place, Homura breaks out the sleeping bag—

Madoka interrupts her, “W-What are you doing?”

“...Sleeping bag?” Homura says.

Madoka pouts, “Homura, I'm not letting you sleep on the floor.”

“But—”

“No buts. You deserve better than that, now come here!” she commands, throwing the sleeping bag aside and pulling Homura into her bed rather forcefully and with a yelp. Quickly, Madoka turns all the lights off and jumps right back in with Homura who hasn't even been able to protest.

“Madoka, please, this—” she tries to argue.

Madoka puts a finger on her lips, though, “Shh. Just lie down and let's talk, okay? Like you said.”

Homura gives up fairly easily, “...Fine, fine. Is that what this is about?” she asks as she crawls under the covers.

Madoka follows suit, “Well...a little. I mean, yeah, but...”

Homura gently rubs her shoulder while they both stare at each other from their sides. She doesn't say anything, but what she means is clear. In response, Madoka scoots in close and buries her head in Homura's warm embrace. Homura gladly accepts, despite the overwhelming desire to push away.

“Madoka?” she whispers.

“Hey, Homura...” Madoka whispers back.

“Yes?”

“I _did_ have fun, tonight. I don't know why, but just spending time together makes me feel warm and soft inside.”

Homura becomes absolutely flushed. Thankfully, Madoka can't see her face.

“I'm...really glad I talked to you that one day, and the next. And the next...” she pauses “...I'm glad we became...f-friends.”

“Me too.” Homura agrees.

Another silence comes. A peaceful one. For a time, anyways. But at some point, Homura can feel her start to shiver.

“Madoka? What's wrong?”

“Huh?” Madoka looks up, weary-eyed.

“You're shaking.”

She's suddenly conscious of it, but can't really stop. Instead, she buries her face again and squeezes even more tightly. “It's...weird, you know?”

Homura raises an eyebrow, even though she can't see it.

“We've only known each other for a couple of weeks, but I feel like it's been a long time. Like we've known each other for years. Have you ever felt like that?”

Homura stills her breath. Or rather, loses it, freezing in place while a hundred different memories wash over her like a tidal wave. By the time she can answer, Madoka pulled away again to stare at her. “...Yes. I think I have. For you, too...”

That makes Madoka go from concern to glee in seconds. “Good!” she says, diving back into Homura's arms, “Then, I'm not alone...”

“Of course; I'm right here.” Homura reassures her, stroking her hair in the meantime.

Just then, she feels something wet on her neck, which Madoka is nuzzled into. “Good...” she whispers back. “...You know, it was really lonely overseas. I didn't know anyone, and even though I could still talk to Sayaka online, it just didn't feel the same...” She starts shaking again, now clearly starting to cry, “I... I just wanted to be close to someone again, you know?”

Homura's heart immediately sinks into her stomach. She swallows despite the urge to suddenly puke from sheer anxiety, fighting it back with only the assurance that it wouldn't be a very touching thing to do at the moment. If not for wanting to seem strong, she would also be letting the waterworks loose right now. Instead, she just holds on tighter and tighter. In her struggle, she manages to speak, “It's...okay, now. I'm here, and I won't let you feel that way again.”

Madoka sniffles, “That's... That's wonderful, Homura. You're a really kind person, you know?”

Homura gulps and shakes her head, “No, no, I'm...”

Madoka rubs her back gently, “Don't put yourself down, Homura.”

Homura sighs, “Okay... But, you can't either. Okay?”

“Alright.” Madoka says, finally sounding content. “Anyways, let's try to get some rest.”

“That sounds nice.” Homura agrees as the tension starts to fade. They pull apart briefly and stare at each other again with smiles all around.

“Goodnight, Homura.”

“Goodnight, Madoka.”

And they hug again, deciding to sleep just like that. Well, except that Homura can't quite sleep, being too enchanted by Madoka's peaceful sleeping face to fall into her own. She brushes a few hairs out of the way and kisses her on the forehead, then mouths some inaudible phrase that she can't bring herself to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess I'm doing commissions, now, if you know what that means. If you have any requests, PM me for details. One at a time, now.


	12. Parkstroller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka and Homura go for a walk in the park.

Sunday, the day after their “first” sleepover, together, we find our two useless lesbians in one of Mitakihara's city parks, out taking a leisurely stroll in the evening.

Madoka, while idly licking up an ice cream cone, asks, “Mm. So, you don't usually sleep well?”

“No,” Homura shakes her head “it seems like I always have bad dreams. But last night was the first time in a while that I got to sleep peacefully. So thank you.”

“I— Uh...” Madoka is about to speak, but ends up stammering and blushing from flattery “That's good. A-Are you sure you don't want any...?” she holds up the cone of ice cream.

Homura shakes her head, “No, it's fine.” and then rubs Madoka's.

But Madoka just pouts, “Homuraaaa!”

Homura is taken aback as she squints at her, “E-Eh?”

“Come on, at least try it! It's good, and you need to eat more, anyways!” Madoka shoves the cone in her face.

With a sigh, Homura concedes, “Fine, fine...” and then gently licks up the length.

Madoka's still holding it up, though. Possibly frozen for some reason.

“Uh... Madoka?” Homura waves a hand in front of her face.

Madoka jumps a bit, “Oh, sorry! I uh...zoned out for a second.” She then goes back to idly eating while they walk through the surprisingly vacant paths. Eventually, they settle near a shaded area, sitting on a bench while absentmindedly conjoining hands. Despite their best efforts to stave off the partially melancholic-pleasant mood, it somehow manages to creep back.

Madoka starts, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Homura replies.

“Remember when you first hugged me back in the connecting hallway?”

“Yes.”

“So just...what was that about? You looked like you were really troubled, back then, but also looked really happy. In a weird way.”

The smile Homura displayed fades quickly. She doesn't go quite pale, but still seems visibly shaken by the question. At the very least, it gives her pause before she answers in a very careful, stilted manner, “It's just...what you said to me, back then. When you...talked about feeling out of place, it just felt personal. Sort of familiar. I just got scared, is all.”

“Scared?”

“Well...” Homura hesitates “...something like that. Brought back memories that I'd rather not relive. Afraid I would lose somebody, again.” She looks down, literally and figuratively.

Madoka reaches over and rubs her shoulder gently, “I don't know what happened or what you're really going through, but I won't abandon you. Alright?”

Homura stays silent, still looking at the ground, as still as a statue. Stays like that for a short time, while Madoka starts inching closer and closer to her, staring more and more intently. She brings her face in closer, slowly opening her mouth as something completely overtakes her...

A scream suddenly rings throughout the park. They both snap back into reality and jump, looking around to find the source of the screaming, and then crying. Some child. Madoka spots the source, pointing towards a young girl coming into view and crying up at her mother, it seems. They both look to be having a very bad time.

Madoka looks back at Homura, whose face is racked with some form of shock for a brief moment. As soon as she looks back, it fades into normalcy, “Yes?”

Madoka hesitates, “Uh... That woman, do you think we should help?”

Homura also hesitates, “...Sure. If you want.”

With that...confirmation? They get up and wave at the two girls as they approach. The older woman in a sundress waves back despite the child clinging to her desperately.

“Mooooommyyyy, I want cheeeesecaaaake!” she screams.

The apparent mom groans defeatedly, “Nagisa, stop. I told you we don't have enough for something like that...”

As she comes up close, Madoka asks, “Hey! You uh, look really tired. Is something wrong?”

She explains, “Oh, Nagisa just can't get over her little cheese addiction. She saw some cheesecake earlier and—”

Nagisa starts screaming about it again, making everyone flinch.

“Yes, that.”

Madoka hums in thought. After a moment, she crouches down and addresses the white-haired child, “Hey there! I know you can't have any cheesecake, but I have this if you want it!” She holds out her ice cream cone. It's half-eaten, but Nagisa only needs to take one brief look at it and her before reaching out and taking it. Doesn't seem to care about the germs.

Homura tries to stop her just too late, “Madoka, wait, are you sure...?”

“Well, she stopped crying, right?”

Homura glances at the child. It seems so. She's so busy eating that she stopped yelling.

Meanwhile, the older woman breathes a sigh of relief as she thanks Madoka, “Oh, you didn't have to do that! But thank you, really. Sometimes I just can't handle her...”

Madoka shakes her head with a smile, “It's okay! I like helping people!”

The woman smiles, “Well, you're an angel. But I haven't even introduced myself, have I? Mami. Mami Tomoe.” She bows.

Madoka does the same, “I'm Madoka Kaname. This is Homura. Say hi, Homura.”

Homura also does, “Greetings. I think I've seen you around, actually.”

“Oh?” Mami says.

“Around the seniors at Mitakihara Middle School, right?”

Mami grins, “Ah, you're right. Most people think I'm a fully grown woman because of my...well, _breasts_, but I'm just 15. I assume you are, too?”

“Not quite,” Homura corrects “We're a year under you.”

“Oh, well that's still wonderful! You look quite mature.”

That gives Homura pause, “...You could say that.”

Suddenly, Madoka blurts out, “Wait, you're...a TEEN MOM!?”

Homura nearly facepalms.

Mami waves her hands about, “No, no! I mean, technically, but I just adopted her!”

Madoka says, “But you're still a mom, right?”

Mami struggles to answer, “Er, well... I guess. I like to think of myself as more of an older sister, you know?”

Madoka asks, “So you adopted her?”

Mami's expression turns melancholic. She slowly crouches down to Nagisa's level and starts gently ruffling her hair, “She...lost her family. Didn't have many people to begin with, but I found her all alone outside of the hospital. I just...took her in. I couldn't stand to see someone suffering like that. It just brought back some bad **memories**.”

Homura clenches her teeth and fists.

“I'm sorry,” Mami rises up “this is probably oversharing, I just—”

Just as she's tearing up, Homura loses her composure and hugs her out of nowhere. It startles all of them for certain, but Madoka reassures her, “Don't worry, she does this sometimes.”

“Oh! Okay! Uh...” Mami says while keeping her arms up, still shocked.

After a few short seconds, Homura lets go and apologizes, “Sorry. I don't know why I did that.”

Mami smiles at her, “It's okay, really. I might have needed that.”

Madoka grins _wide _as she starts doting on Homura, “See? She looks dark and scary, but she's really just a sweet little cupcake, isn't she?” She ends by hugging her tightly.

Homura reflexively blushes as red as a tomato, no matter how hard she tries to suppress it. “Madoka, come on...” Despite that, she's pulling her in closer with one absentminded arm.

Mami giggles at the two, “Well, it's been nice meeting you two, but we need to get going. By chance, what's your room number?”

“Oh, I'll write it down!” Madoka says. A minute later and she hands Mami a tiny slip of paper that she puts in her purse.

“Maybe I'll drop by, sometime!” Mami suggests as she starts walking away, leading Nagisa along with her.

The two girls wave goodbye, and as they do, Nagisa tugs on Mami's dress again. “Mami!” she says as she shoves an empty ice cream cone up at her.

Mami complains, “Ah— Eat it! It's good!” But Nagisa isn't having _that_ shit. Reluctantly, Mami says “Fine! I'll eat it!” and takes it from her. Nagisa has no problem with this.

Madoka smiles at them as they watch them head off. “I can't believe she's in _middle school!_” she whispers to Homura, who giggles.

“Of course.” she says with a grin.

Madoka's not sure what she means by that, but okay.

* * *

Later that day, Madoka must regrettably bring her friend home. Well, Junko does, anyways. She refused to hear it when Homura insisted she go home alone. At _sunset_. Oh, the horror.

As they stop near the entrance to the building, Madoka asks, “Hey, can we do this again?”

“Hm?”

“I mean, I really liked it. I remember that sleepovers with Sayaka were always really fun, and sleepovers with Hitomi were cool because she's rich and all, but...” her speech starts to gradually speed up as she rambles “I don't know, you're a lot different. Sometimes hanging out with other people gets exhausting, but with you I feel like I can just relax, and I don't really know why or if it means anything, but I just like the time we spend together and—”

Homura cuts her off, “Of course.”

“Huh?”

“Of course we can do it again. Whatever makes you happy. Just say when.”

“Oh...” Madoka thinks for a moment “...then maybe next weekend?”

“Sure.” Homura smiles at her.

She smiles back, but then adds, “And can it be here?”

“At _my_ apartment?”

“Yeah!”

“I don't know why you would want to.”

“So...?” Madoka looks expectant.

Homura rolls her eyes, “Fine, okay.”

Madoka looks happy. And that's all she really wanted. They part ways for today, promising to see each other tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mami's a mommy, haha, get it?  
GET IT!?


	13. Stuffed Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura had a bad night.

It's a lazy Tuesday, today. Just about night, but Homura refuses to leave her seat in the little cafe she showed Madoka that one day. Just sitting there, head resting on her palm as she stares down at her notebook and scribbles little drawings of things that no normal person would be able to properly describe. All of them covering the page in something that would flash in front of you during a particularly bad nightmare, or maybe the recollected and fragmented memories of such being glued together into an abstraction of what it all may have represented.

Nobody else is there besides the barista, idly sitting back and scrolling through his phone, sometimes cleaning a glass just to look busy. Homura's cup is stagnant, half-full. Whatever it was — something sweet — can no longer be determined. Left here so long it must be cold by now.

And then the door's bell chimes as someone walks in. Reflexively, she looks over to see none other than Junko waltzing in. Not drunk, thankfully. And alongside her...

“Madoka?” she says, somewhat surprised. Madoka peeks out from behind her mother and waves with a grin.

Junko also waves, “Ah, Homura, you're here.”

Homura asks, “What are you two doing here?”

Junko explains while taking a seat next to her, “Madoka told me about this place. I did some searching and found it, then we decided to take a trip. Skipped drinking with the guys to check it out.”

Homura looks back down, “I guess coffee is better than getting drunk, at least.”

“Better for you?” Junko asks rhetorically “Sure. Better? You won't be saying that when you're _my_ age and have two kids and a job.” She chuckles about it, but Homura just rolls her eyes. The barista then finally clears his throat to get her attention, and she gets the message. She asks, “Madoka, you said they have really good hot chocolate here, right?” Madoka nods, so that's what she orders, “God, I haven't had that in _years_. Two for us!” And then she adds, “Oh and get one for this one, too!” referring to Homura.

Homura adamantly refuses, “No, no, I'm really not in the mood—.”

But Junko isn't hearing it, “Come on, be a kid while you still can!”

If she were in a more argumentative mood, she would promptly start bitching, but both not being in that mood and having Madoka to her other side are enough motivation to just roll her eyes and figuratively wave it off.

After the barista brings back the two cups for them, they start going in-between talking to each other and sipping while Homura just sort of hangs around and stares down at the counter, sometimes stealing glances at Madoka. Idle banter, mostly. Junko asks about Saotome, their teacher, and then starts on this long-winded recollection of that one time they tried a double date but the guy who Saotome brought along passed out after a few shots of whiskey, and she had to drag him back into the car. She was supposedly ranting the entire time.

It's nice, in a way. Just being able to sit and absorb something that simple without a care, not being really obligated to participate. At times she would consider the role of a spectator to be tragic, but times like this reinforce the exact opposite sentiment. Ultimately, maybe it's not so much either or, but if and when.

That's what she was thinking, anyways. She's too lost in self-contemplation to notice that they eventually stop talking and start waiting for her to say something. She doesn't. It's then that Madoka notices the notebook she was scribbling in. Looking at whatever is on there sends some sort of otherwise nondescript chill up her spine, and she hesitates to ask about it.

Junko realizes this as well, having noticed Madoka staring at it and the content. Realizing that she's in the way, she attempts to bolster Madoka by excusing herself to the bathroom and patting her on the shoulder on the way out. An unclear message, but they've spent enough time together that she understands.

So after summoning some courage, Madoka taps her on the shoulder and asks, “Homura? You alright?”

She jumps at first, but answers, “Uh... Yeah, why?”

Madoka looks concerned, “I just...your notebook.”

Homura nearly slams her hand down on it in an attempt to cover it, purely by reaction, making Madoka jump. “It's nothing.” Homura dismisses.

Madoka still tries to pry a bit, “I...uh... You've been quiet, recently.”

“Always.” Homura again dismisses.

“I mean, _more_ quiet.”

Homura remains silent.

“Hey, you know I'm always here if you need to talk, okay?” Madoka pats her back.

Homura sighs and, with a sudden energy to her, whips around and starts to speak, “I lo—” but stops herself dead in her tracks and changes course “...I know. I like that about you. Sometimes I just need to be alone, alright?”

Visibly confused, Madoka asks, “But you've always been alone, haven't you?”

Homura's heart could have stopped right then and there.

“That's what the others said, anyways. That they never saw you with anybody, and always by yourself. Even during group activities, you always just do things by yourself.”

Homura's first instinct is to react violently and defensively, but she stays her tongue just for Madoka's sake and inadvertantly allows her to continue.

Madoka takes her hand and squeezes it tightly, “I get that you need to have time for yourself, but I want to be here for you where nobody else has been. Okay?”

Before she can answer, Homura looks all around to see if anybody is looking. As if something within her sprang to life, she too springs, into motion and Madoka's arms. There, she rests her head on her shoulder and begins to shake and nearly sob despite herself, only barely keeping it together by holding on tightly.

Madoka suppresses her surprise and hugs back just as soon as she's embraced, “O-Oh! Hey, it's alright. It's alright...” She starts stroking Homura's hair slowly until she's no longer shaking. Her hair is usually nice and silky, fresh with the smell of shampoo. Today, though, it seems just a bit rougher. Tangled up in a few knots, more like she just got out of bed. Madoka hadn't really noticed it before, so she asks, “Hey, how's your day been?”

While still clinging to her, Homura answers with a whisper, “Couldn't sleep well. Felt sick all day. Just haven't felt like doing anything.”

Madoka hums, with her smile gradually fading, “I thought you looked off in class, today. But...”

Homura finally lets go, sitting back up in her seat, though they both still have their hands on each others' shoulders. She hums inquisitively, still looking worse for wear, but at least not like she's angry at everything.

After a brief pause, Madoka smiles again, “I think I know how to help. I don't think I can just let you sleep over every night, but I can get you something else.”

“What is it?” Homura asks.

Reluctantly, Madoka says, “It's uh... A surprise! You'll have to wait and see! We can go and get it tonight, actually!”

“That...would be nice.” Homura says, happy but unsure of any sort of receipt.

As if that were her cue, Junko comes loudly marching out of the restroom and announcing her presence, “Hey, I'm back! What're you two up to?”

They almost instantaneously let go of each other as soon as they hear her, and then have to endure their heads being relentlessly ruffled. But instead of sitting back down, she looks around and at the pool table behind them. “Hey, Homura, you know how to play?” she asks, motioning towards it.

“Eh? Uh...” Homura grunts confusedly.

“Ah, it's fine. Come on, I'll show you.” Junko says, invasively hurrying her out of the chair and into a game. Madoka can't help but grin and chuckle at the sight. She doesn't usually get to see Homura acting nervously, but for some reason it sets off a few of her switches. Kind of scary, for some reason.

And while she's staring listlessly back at Homura learning how to play pool and then promptly getting hung one over by Junko, Madoka spies out of the corner of her eye the notebook that had been covered from her view. She knows she shouldn't be snooping around so blatantly like this, but curiosity gets the better of her.

Flipping through the pages is a bit...upsetting, to say the least. On each page is a different series of surreal patterns and figures, the likes of which she had never even thought about before. Some bring back nostalgic feelings without memories to accompany them. Others bring about the type of dread that sinks your heart right into your stomach. Horrific creatures of some sort, without a valid comprehensible form that anybody less than HP Lovecraft would not be able to properly describe.

She had said something about having trouble sleeping, and Madoka had figured it was either insomnia, anxiety, or nightmares. Well, this answers that, but she would have never grasped the full scale of it without peeking at the girl's private art. In a way, she feels guilty for it. Not a very friend-like thing to do, but in the end, would Homura have really come out and shown her this? She doubts it. That girl is too quick to run away from anything resembling her own happiness.

That said, she doesn't exactly know how to help, either. It's not like she's a psychologist, and this looks like some weapons-grade bad shit that Homura must be dealing with to have such..._vividly graphic_ visions. If the sketch of twenty of her own heads severed and acting as the seats of a Ferris wheel is any indication. Which... She's disturbed by that one in particular. It makes her want to ask again, but she still can't reveal that she looked through the thing. Breaking trust isn't a particularly productive hobby.

She decides that she's seen enough, and wants to stop before anybody notices, so flips to where it was previously and acts like nothing happened. About an hour or so passes before those two are done with their game and sit back down. By then, Madoka asks her mother, “Can we stop by the mall to get something? And take Homura along.”

“If they're still open. Pretty close to closing time,” Junko answers “but come on. Let's hurry. I want to get home before dinner gets cold!”

With a smile, Madoka nods along and skips out the door, with Homura in tow. Well, practically dragging her out as she tries to finish her drink and grab her things simultaneously.

The Kaname family's car is...very clean. Not a single trace of trash in sight, everything in borderline pristine condition. Homura almost expected there to be bottles of liquor strung about on the floorboard, but no. Junko is at least a professional drunk, if that's a compliment. Also doesn't make you want to grasp on for dear life whenever she's behind the wheel. Color her surprised.

Well, as surprised as she can be when Madoka's leaning on her shoulder the entire time. At that point, relaxation becomes the only perceivable emotion. They don't say a word during the entire ten-minute drive. Not more for lack of desire than lack of will, but a strong sense of longing for solemn silence.

And also for what's coming next. They arrive about 30 minutes before closing time, when the only people there are those about to leave work, and people getting some last minute shopping done. They tell Homura to wait in the car. It wouldn't be a surprise otherwise, would it?

And almost those full 30 minutes she does wait. Anxiously, anticipating what on earth Madoka had cooked up in her head. Something adorable, no doubt. Well, she'd have to wait a little bit longer, it seems. For when they come back out, it's hidden in a bag which they place in the trunk. At this point, that aforementioned anticipation is surprisingly killing her.

Instead of showing it to her then and there, they ask for her to show them the way to her home. Another drive that feels far longer than it actually is later, and they're parked right outside an apartment complex that looks like it was constructed in the victorian era. Madoka gawks at it for a while as they step out into the night, surrounded by dim lights, and then goes for a casual hug.

As good as this is, Homura has to ask, “So, are you going to show it to me, now?” with a smirk.

Madoka giggles and squeezes her tighter before suddenly jumping off of her, “Yeah! Just...” Junko pops the trunk open, Madoka gets the bag out, and nervously hands it over.

“You want me to open it like a Christmas present?” Homura asks, giggling a little. Christmas presents. That's something she hasn't thought about in years. Madoka, of course, nods hastily.

Homura rolls her eyes at the girl's childish antics, but complies. When she opens the bag, she's greeted with the (literally) beady eyes of a giant, slender, stuffed rabbit that looks _very _familiar. Except, this one is a dark blue.

While she's a bit stricken by the sight, Madoka comments, “Sorry, I tried to find a purple one to match your eyes, but they only had blue and yellow. But hey, we match now!”

Homura picks it up under the arms and raises it up for a better look. Madoka could almost see the glistening in her eyes from welling up tears as she stares at it. In her head she's _screaming _with joy, but in reality she's totally speechless. Her expectations were met, dashed away, and surpassed twice over. Despite her being about to just break down right there, she manages to say just a couple words, “I... Th-Thank you. So much...”

Madoka can tell just from the tone that she wants to say more and can't so she hushes her and closes in for another hug. This time including the stuffed rabbit. And this time, far more protracted than usual. They linger there for so long, in fact, that Junko has to honk the car's horn briefly to remind them that time exists. Because they could swear it had stopped right then and there just for them.

Well, not like it _couldn't _have. But alas, they must depart. Madoka offers to have her over at the last second, but she declines. Too much trouble for the adults.

And that night, just before going to bed, Madoka gets a message. Homura took a picture of herself, nestled up against the stuffed rabbit, about to go to bed just the same. The words accompanying it, “Good night.”

Switch: flipped again. She hugs her phone as if it's a person and whispers back the same words, “Good night, Homura.”

<strike>And then they both squeal into their pillows.</strike>


	14. Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls get a little exercise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this feels a little bit like Kill la Kill, it's because I had just finished watching half of it before writing this.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Sayaka yells.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Kyouko yells back as they smash their faces together aggressively, both running as hard and fast as they can around the school's track. Kicking up dust, making a racket, just sweating it the _fuck_ up.

It's PE, of course. Madoka and Homura watch from the sidelines, drinking from water bottles despite not having really done anything since they came out. “They're really going at it, huh?” Madoka asks rhetorically.

“Hardly.” Homura corrects. “You can't run quickly if you're too busy slamming against each other.” She takes a drink.

Madoka groans, “Sometimes it's cute, but it gets...”

“Annoying?”

“...excessive, sometimes. Homura, that's mean...”

Homura shakes her head, “What am I supposed to think? She doesn't give me much of a chance to like her.”

Madoka tilts her head inquisitively. Homura explains further, “...For one, it's rather bothersome for her to keep calling me quote, 'The Chuuni', unquote.”

Madoka tries to laugh it off, but even she's having a hard time justifying that. “She's...” she hesitates “...maybe just a bit jealous. I've been gone for 3 years, you know. She was dying to start doing things like we used to when we were in elementary. And I've been spending a lot of time with you. So maybe she just doesn't want to lose her friend.”

After thinking it over, Homura shakes her head again, “Somehow, I doubt it's that complicated.”

Madoka giggles, “Yeah... But, still. I wouldn't just abandon someone like that. I'll still be friends with her, Kyouko, and everyone no matter what. I wish she would stop acting jealous.”

“That would make you happy?” Homura asks.

The question throws Madoka off, “Uh...yeah.”

Homura looks down at her feet, “You don't have to keep entertaining me, you know. I'm fine on my own, so—”

“No.”

“What?”

Madoka stares at her sternly, with a hand on her shoulder, “That goes for you, too. I want to keep  _all_ of you.”

Still staring at the ground but with a brief grin, Homura says, “...No, you.”

“Eh?”

She looks back up, “Earlier, you said they were cute.”

It takes Madoka a minute to parse what she just said, but succeeding prompts her to rub the back of her head and blush timidly.

Homura makes a satisfied smirk, then clears her throat and suddenly shouts, “SPEAK OF THE DEVILS!”

Sayaka, trudging back from the track with Kyouko beside her, yells back, “SPEAK FOR YOURSELF, YA DEVIL-LOOKIN'—!”

Homura interrupts her, “Don't finish that sentence!”

They both roll their eyes at each other. Kyouko laughs at the exchange while Madoka just pouts at them passive-aggressively.

Once the two are up-close, Sayaka begins while sitting in the grass, “Aaah! I can't believe they're making us practice for the sports festival this early! It's not until June!”

Kyouko sits beside her, “Ah, at least we get the short sleeves.”

Homura speaks up, “We'll be wearing PE uniforms the entire time either way, Kyouko.”

Kyouko responds, “But we won't be hot  _afterwards_ , see? You're still runnin' hot after a run, and the winter outfits just trap all that heat in! But the summer ones aren't so thick and have short sleeves, so you let off more and don't keep sweating like a pig afterwards!”

The phrase “sweating like a pig” makes Homura cringe. Though, Kyouko being the one to say it makes it less so than, say,  _anyone else_ . She throws a rag she had on hand at her and chides, “Tch. Go take a damn shower. You too, Miki Sayaka.”

Madoka's about to softly scold her for being so cold, but then Kyouko shouts at her, “No way in hell! This is just my  **intermission** ! I could go  _ aaaaall _ day!”

Homura glances away, “ **Please do not.** ”

“Oh?” Kyouko stands up and walks over to her, bends down, and taunts, “I guess you don't mind losing, too? Guess we'll just smoke you in every competition!”

Homura flips her hair and scoffs, “Hmph. Like I need to practice to beat  _ you.  _ I'm already prepared, and I frankly don't care to prove to you that I'm on a totally different level.”

While they're going back and forth, Madoka groans helplessly and Sayaka whispers, “Well, no stopping her now.”

“Hm?” Madoka hums.

“When she catches a competition, there's no stopping her. Did I tell you about the time she did over a hundred pushups just because some guy said that he could beat her without trying?”

“What?”

“Yeah, we were in homeroom one day and she gets into an argument with him. Said all guys were stronger than girls and she could never do as many pushups as him or his friends. So she took that challenge without even a bet and beat all of them by double. We had to take her to the nurse afterwards because she hurt herself. Could have stopped after they got tired, but _noooo_, she had to go even further beyond!”

Madoka can't help but giggle, “Wow, that sounds...amazing.”

“Well...yeah. It kind of was, I guess. It's 'cause of that sort of stuff that she's really ripped, though. I mean, have you seen her in the changing room?”

Madoka looks away and flatly replies, “No.”

Sayaka takes it at face value, “Well, she is. Makes me kind of self-conscious, actually. ...Maybe I should get a routine... Anyways, what about her?”

“Eh?” Madoka jumps, as if a thought was interrupted.

“The chuuni. She's as thin as Somen, isn't she?”

Madoka starts lightly blushing as she spaces out, “Uh...not really.”

“Wow. Now I need to see for myself.”

Madoka tries to stop her, “Uh, hey! Wait!”

Too late. Sayaka jumps up and points at Homura, “Chuuni girl!”

Madoka grabs her by the arm meekly and whispers, “Sayaka! Stop calling her that!”

She rolls her eyes in response, “ _ Homura _ ! Take off your shirt!”

Everyone falls silent.

Homura narrows her eyes in disgust, “ _ ... _ Come again?”

“You heard me! Come on, let's see what shape you're in compared to her!” she points at Kyouko.

Homura denies her immediately, “I'm not even going to entertain that request. There is only one person who I trust to see me in that state of undress outside of a locker room.”

“Guess I'll have to look then!”

Homura deepens her voice, “ **Do you ** _ **want** _ ** me to hurt you?** ” That seems to get through, as she backs off. Homura then turns back to Kyouko, “As for you, I  _ will _ take up your challenge. Prepare to be totally and unequivocally trounced.”

Kyouko gets pumped up despite how worn out she clearly is, “Alright,  **alright!** Let's do it!”

And then she gets hit in the face with a water bottle. “Drink up. You'll need it.” Homura says.

She throws it back, which Homura catches easily, “You will, more.”

They both glare at each other and walk towards the track while Madoka and Sayaka watch from afar, the former quite worried both ways.

* * *

5 minutes later, Homura is standing above Kyouko who has just collapsed to her knees in shock at the finish line. “Im-Impossible...” she gasps.

With her shadow looming over her like a mighty oak, Homura scolds, “What did I tell you? You're a thousand years behind me. I haven't even broken a sweat and you're on the ground. This wasn't even a match, it was a curb stomp. If you want to stand a single chance of winning this festival for us, you'll need to be at least approaching my level. Until then, stick to opponents your own size.”

With those sharp words, she flips her hair one last time, chugs the rest of her drink, and then throws it on the ground as she walks away. Sayaka immediately runs over to console her, “Kyouko! It's alright, you'll beat her one day! We just need to train harder! We—!”

Kyouko stands up in defiance, points at Homura and dramatically yells, “Homura Akemi! If I do one thing in my life, I'll beat you at this! At something! Starting today, we are rivals!”

Some guy yells from afar, “Hey! I thought  _ I _ was your rival! ”

Someone else yells the same, “No,  _ I'm  _ her rival!”

Kyouko yells generally at everyone, “YOU'RE ALL MY RIVALS!”

Sayaka interrupts, “Wh-What about me!? Aren't I your number one rival?”

Kyouko crosses her arms and with a fire in her eye, states, “Sayaka! You are promoted to  **COMRADE!** ”

“Oooh!” Sayaka says in awe, fists raised up excitedly.

While those two are gawking over their drama, Madoka runs up to Homura and whispers to her, “Hey, wasn't that a bit overboard? You didn't have to insult her like that!”

Suddenly losing her stern mystique, Homura actually looks rather lax as she looks up absentmindedly and hums, surprised not just by Madoka's sentiments but by her own surprise at that. Don't stop expecting the obvious, she guesses. Nevertheless, she dismisses it with a question, “Madoka, look over at them. Does her spirit look crushed, to you?”

She looks back at the two getting pumped up together, then back at Homura.

“I know how she works. How to push her buttons. If she isn't constantly proven wrong, she'll get soft and complacent. She'll lose her way. If I have to become a villain to keep her going the same way she always has, then so be it.”

“So...you're saying she _needs_ to keep getting new rivals?”

“Precisely. Needs to keep finding stronger and stronger opponents. Madoka, she's not like you or I. She's a natural warrior. Without that motivation or something to replace it, she'll lose meaning.”

“So she's competitive?”

Homura stops in place for a second, “...To put it simply, yes.”

“And competitive people get motivation from being challenged?”

“Yes.”

“Oooh, okay. I think I get it.”

Homura sighs. She wants to say “No you don't, but that's okay.”, but instead she just pats her head and keeps walking around aimlessly.

Alas, she starts again, “So, what about Sayaka?”

Homura shakes her head, “In a way. She's really just rowdy and a bit...dogmatic. Or stubborn.”

“Dogmatic?”

“Never mind. Don't worry about it.”

Madoka isn't satisfied, but changes the subject, “Well, anyways, could you please try to get along better with them?”

Homura stops in place and sucks up her feelings, “...Madoka, I would love  _ nothing more _ than for every day to be peaceful and for everyone to just get along for once.”

“But...” Madoka says for her expectantly.

“...But I'm always going to be an antagonist to them. That's just how it is.”

“Homura, no.”

“Madoka...”

“No!” she shouts, jumping on and hugging Homura so suddenly that she throws her arms up and yelps. People start looking. “No you're not! Why do you keep saying that!?” She's making a scene. Homura starts to break out a little red, making a sour face.

Quickly, she consoles the girl by hugging her back and whispering, “Okay, okay! Calm down, everyone's looking!”

“Homura...” Madoka whispers back “...you're not bad. You're a really good, nice, gentle person. Even when it looks like you're being mean, you're still just looking out for people in your own way. Like just now with Kyouko. And...I'm sure that if you knew how to show it better, you could even be friends with Sayaka, even if she does start things a lot. So please don't say things like that.”

That negative zeal from earlier fades into nothing as Homura melts like putty into her words. She exhales slowly, “Madoka... It's alright. You're too kind, you know that? I'm afraid someone might try to take advantage of that.”

“I'll be okay.” she assures her.

“Even if you say that, I'll still worry. Now come on, it's about time to go back in.” she pats Madoka on the back.

“Okay.” she replies as they part, though still looking a bit dissatisfied. As they go back, she can't help but think, _“You worry me, too...”_


	15. Tea Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura, Madoka, Kyouko, and Sayaka have a tea/cake "date" with Mami and Nagisa.

After making the long walk from school to the apartments, a bit near where Sayaka lives, she begins to ask Madoka, “So, what's this 'new friend' of yours like? Still haven't even told us her name yet.”

She giggles, “Oh, you'll see! She's really pleasant to be around, right Homura?”

Homura looks away and groans as if she doesn't want to say yes, but ends up saying it anyways.

“See?” Madoka says as if it's reassuring.

“That didn't sound very enthusiastic.” Kyouko points out.

Madoka argues, “Well, if _Homura _doesn't dislike her, then she's doing something right.”

Sayaka raises her brow, “...And _that_ was kind of mean. Geez, Madoka.” she says teasingly.

“Wait, what?” Madoka looks around at everyone confusedly. “What did I say?” They start chuckling, so she shouts, “You guys always put me on the spot like this!”

Homura sighs and pats her on the head, “It's okay, Madoka. I know what you're trying to say. Don't listen to them, they're just messing with you.”

Madoka groans grumpily and leans into Homura's side in response, who continues the conversation, “Anyways, the person we're going to introduce you two to is very kind-hearted, but a bit...fragile. So please watch what you say and don't bother her too much. Or anyone, for that matter.”

After a moment of silence, she adds, “That goes you especially, Kyouko.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kyouko responds sarcastically.

Soon enough, they arrive at the person in question's front door in a fairly high-up high rise apartment. Madoka, who has since stopped clinging to Homura, knocks. The person who answers the door, however, isn't who they expect. Before them stands the little Nagisa, who looks up at them wondrously and yells behind her, “IT'S THE NICE GIRLS!”

“Let them in!” Mami's voice rings out from the kitchen. “And make sure their shoes are off!”

“OKAY!” Nagisa yells again. She swings the door open completely and leads them in while singing “Friends are here!” over and over, straight into the kitchen from which Mami then emerges.

She comes out wearing an apron with some spatterings of icing and batter on it, “Ah, Madoka; Homura. Just as you said. Are these your friends?”

Madoka cheerily confirms, “Yup!” She points to Sayaka, “This is Sayaka. We've been friends since elementary school!” She points at Kyouko, “And this—”  
  
Mami is suddenly shocked when she notices, “...K-Kyouko!? Kyouko Sakura?”  
  
Kyouko finally turns her attention from the fancy furniture to Mami and is equally stunned, “Mami!?”  
  
Everyone except Homura is surprised. Madoka asks, “You two know each other?”

Mami explains, “Uh... Yes. My family used to donate and go to her church when it was still in Kazamino.”

Kyouko also speaks, “Yeah, we used to play together all the time.” She takes a few steps closer, “Oh my god. Mami, I didn't think I'd ever see you again after that car accident!”

Mami shakes her head, “Me neither. I was in the hospital for so long, and then got moved here...I didn't think there was ever a chance we could meet again. But...here you are. So, how are things?”

Despite the mess on her apron, Kyouko doesn't hesitate to run up and trap her in a big ol' silent bear hug. It catches everyone off-guard, and Sayaka comments, “Whoa. Never seen _this_ side of you before.”

“Shut up!” Kyouko yells, muffled by Mami's enormous mammies.

The girl in question has to gasp for air, “A-And you're as strong as ever! Er, please let go! I can't—!”

Kyouko swings her around a bit before finally letting go. She sniffles, but tries to act cool about it, “Ah, sorry about that. Just glad to see you again.”

Mami stretches her back out, then giggles, “Kyouko, were you crying just now?”

The mere notion makes Sayaka and Madoka start to giggle as well. The former in a more mock tone, as is the usual with her. She says, “Kyouko? Crying? Is the world coming to an end?”

Kyouko yells at both of them, “Shut up! I wasn't crying! This is nothing!”

“Sure thing, Kyouko.” Madoka surprisingly quips. Even Homura manages to crack what can vaguely be described as a smile.

Mami especially smiles, but is more on the genuine side of things. “Well, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do, don't we? Such good timing! I just got finished icing this wonderful angel food cake, and I can put some tea on while we're at it!”

“No thanks.” Homura quickly refuses.

Everyone looks back at her, fittingly confused.

“I only eat _devil's_ food cake.” she says.

Their stares seem to say, _“Are you kidding me?” _in response. A silence ensues.

It being broken by Sayaka cooing, “Chuuuuni.” and Kyouko repeating her.

“Wh-What? What!?” Homura yells.

Madoka sighs and pats her shoulder. With an exasperated tone, she says, “Homura, we really need to talk about this 'devil' thing.”

“But—!”

Madoka looks awfully intent and stern, “Homura, you're going to eat cake with us if I have to feed you, myself.”

Homura tries to hold back a blush, “O-Okay...”

Madoka smiles, “Good! Now come on, let's sit down and...”

They're interrupted with a brief scream from the kitchen, “AAAH! NAGISA!”

Suddenly, the little kid is sprinting out of the kitchen and into the bathroom faster than the damn roadrunner. Mami comes chasing after her, “Nagisa! Get your little tail back here right this instant!”

“No!” the door slams shut.

Mami pounds against it, “Nagisa Momoe, I swear to god you are NOT getting any of that cake if you don't come out here right now!”

While they're arguing, Sayaka wonders, “Geez, what happened there?”

To confirm her suspicions, Kyouko peeks into the kitchen and spies the cake on the counter. “Ah,” she says “that'll do it.”

“What?” Sayaka tries to peek in as well.

“Heh. Stuck her finger in the icing.” Kyouko chuckles. They both roll their eyes. From here, they can hear Mami scolding the little girl in the other room, but Nagisa seems far too stubborn to actually succumb to it.

Soon enough, Mami just gives up and comes out to find everyone seated at her impractically triangular table. “Ah, I'm sorry about that, everyone! I'll get the tea going.”

By the time it's ready, she's cut up the cake into 6 neatly divided pieces, each on 6 beautifully decorative and exactly similar plates, with tiny ornate forks. Each paired with 6 total fine china teacups. Even the teapot itself looks like it was crafted out of ivory.

Kyouko is the first to comment, “I knew your parents were rich and all but DAMN this is fancy!” She then picks up the teacup by its sides and chugs it like it's a saké saucer. Then immediately pours another cup.

Unfazed by her rudeness, Mami speaks, “I'm glad it's to your liking. So what brings you to Mitakihara, anyways?”

Kyouko takes a moment to chew a rather large chunk of her cake before answer, with her mouth still half-full, “Mm. Well, the church wa'n't doin' too well y'see.” she swallows “So we ended up moving here to get kind of a clean slate. Luckily, the people here were a bit more open-minded to dad's preaching. So for the past couple years, I've just been hanging around. Y'know.”

Mami sips from her cup daintily, “What school do you go to?”

“Same as them.” Kyouko points generally at the other three.

“Oh? I wonder why we haven't seen each other, then.”

“Beats me. Guess our schedules just never lined up.” Kyouko guesses as if it's nothing.

“Well, I _am_ a senior. The only reason I really met those two...” she motions towards Madoka and Homura “...is because we came across each other in the park. But anyways, how have things been?”

“Better. We can _eat_, now.” Kyouko jokes.

Mami awkwardly laughs, “Ah...right. Right. And what about your new friend, there?”

Sayaka stands up immediately to introduce herself, “Sayaka Miki!”

Kyouko stands up in response and adds, “Resident tomboy!”

“Oi!” Sayaka yells at her, smacking the back of her head.

“What!? It's true!” Kyouko complains.

“I'm not the only one! And besides, I like some girly things, too!”

Mami chuckles at the two arguing, not realizing that it's _always_ like this, “Alright, you two, calm down.” Reluctantly, they back down. Mostly because Kyouko doesn't want to look bad in front of Mami. She follows that up by asking, “So, Sayaka, I trust the amenities are to your liking?”

To accentuate her point, Sayaka takes another bite from the excessively spongy cake and grunts, “Mm. Yeah, it's great. You bake a lot?”

Mami chuckles and nods, “Indeed. _This_ little troublemaker over here adores my cheesecakes, so it's been a while since I haven't made _something _every day!” She pinches Nagisa's cheek as she's pigging out next to her. Not that she cares that much.

Sayaka grins and giggles, “Ah, so is she your...little sister, or something?”

Though still smiling, Mami suddenly looks a bit down, “Something like that. We're not really related, but I did adopt her. The poor thing lost her whole family. Like...” she trails off, patting Nagisa's head.

“Uh...” Kyouko says “...y'alright?”

Mami snaps out of her trance and shakes her head, “Oh, yes. I'm fine. Anyways, what about you two—?” Mami addresses Madoka and Homura, then looks over to find them both feeding each other their cakes. “Oh my. You two are awfully close, aren't you?” she teases.

Though Madoka blushes from embarrassment and starts stammering to defend herself, Homura looks mostly unfazed. “We're friends.” she says briefly.

Mami grins, “Clearly. But I don't believe I've ever had a friend _that_ close that I could feed them.”

Sayaka groans, “Ugh, it's been like this for a week, now. Come on, Madoka, why don't WE do that? I've been your best friend since elementary!”

Madoka sighs, “Sayaka, I thought you said that sort of thing was _weird._”

Sayaka freezes up, “Tch! I mean, I just didn't want anyone else to see is all! It's embarrassing, you know? Er... I mean...”

As if to play along on Madoka's side Kyouko starts to pout, “Oi, we're best friends too, right?”

Sayaka continues to get flustered, “W-Well, I...”

“Come on, if you wanted to do that, we've been alone a lot and you never did!”

“I...” Sayaka tries to speak.

“So? Am I?” Kyouko continues to prod.

After a brief and awkward silence filled with Sayaka fidgeting about and trying her best to not blush, she finally gives in and says, “F-Fine. Let me see your plate.”

Kyouko smirks triumphantly, sliding over the tiny plate with her mostly devoured cake on it. Sayaka cuts off and stabs a chunk of it and — while everyone is watching dutifully — slowly airplanes it into Kyouko's open mouth. She exaggeratedly bites down on it and gets the fork all wet, probably to add insult to injury or something. She savors it, then swallows, and finally condenses the entirety of the smugness in Mami's apartment into a single facial expression that she practically assaults Sayaka with, causing her to look away in mild disgust.

Sayaka looks back at her fork, treating it like a dirty tissue as she sets it down on the table. “Mami...” she's about to ask.

“Another fork?” Mami finishes, getting up preemptively to head into the kitchen.

“...Yeah.”

Suddenly, a piece of cake is shoved in front of her: Kyouko trying to return the favor, still with that smug look. “Come on~!” she slurs with a cutesy tone.

Sayaka sighs and relents. No use in trying to fight back against this girl. “Fine,” she says “but I'm gonna get you for this, later!”

Kyouko remains unfazed.

Sayaka sighs and veeeeeery carefully takes the bite, wary of any pranks Kyouko could pull. Instead, she finds herself completely fine afterwards.

Meanwhile, Madoka and Homura are staring from across the table, both enamored with what they're witnessing. Homura, feeling awfully mischievous today, just indirectly says, “Indirect kiss.”

It takes a moment to register. They look at her. Then at each other. Kyouko starts to crack up, but Sayaka blushes and tries to mask it by forcefully gagging and flailing about in a melodramatic manner, falling onto the ground, and rolling around on the carpet.

“AAAH!” she screams “I will have my REVEEEEENGE!”

Kyouko goes from cracking up to going into hysterics so hard that she starts snorting, which gets everyone laughing in turn. Even Homura vaguely smiles, although she's still staring at Madoka.

Mami comes back out just in time to witness the commotion. Carrying both the new fork and the rest of the cake. “My, what's happened here?” she asks, knowing full well. She sits down and gently chides Kyouko, “Now now, don't go off killing her with your little pranks, okay?”

Kyouko calms down, “Alright, alright.” She lifts Sayaka back up off the floor, “Come on, ya little pansy, get up.”

“Little?” she complains “I'm bigger than you! ...And _bigger_ than you.” She suddenly dons a sly smirk as she flaunts her chest.

“I see that as an absolute win!” Kyouko retorts.

“What?” Sayaka asks flatly, suspiciously dumbfounded.

“What?” Kyouko responds, acting surprised. She turns and subtly winks at Homura, who raises an eyebrow at her.

Mami whispers to both Homura and Madoka, “Is it _always_ like this?”

“Mhm.” Homura hums.

“Pretty much.” Madoka replies exhaustedly.

Sayaka continues to prod at Kyouko while those three talk, “So...wait, what did _that_ mean?”

Kyouko crosses her arms, “You'll see.”

“What?”

“Exactly.”

“Seriously, _what!?_”

“_Exactly._” Kyouko vaguely repeats.

As those two start bickering again, Mami asks Homura and Madoka, “So, what have you two been up to? It's been a little while.”

Homura quietly replies, almost too quiet to talk over the tornado sitting across from them, “Same as usual.”

Mami nods, “You live an awfully calm life, don't you? Well, aside from _them._”

“Quite.” Homura briefly replies.

They fall silent again.

In her head, Homura is silently panicking, _“Oh no. Oh no, nonono, what do I say? Don't freak out, don't freak out, you've got this. Small talk. Just tell her about your day. 'How are you?' 'Oh, I'm fine, but the familiars are really bothering me lately and I can't figure out whether or not my dreams are reality and—' NO! No, no magic, no existentialism, none of that. Just act happy. Talk about normal things. Like... Madoka? No! I can't just talk about Madoka, everyone will think I'm creepy! Why did I agree to this!? AAAAAAAAAAAAA—!”_

She calmly sips some tea.

Confused, Mami just dismisses it, “Ah, you're even more quiet than I thought. Don't worry about it! I know all about that.”

“_Oh, thank Madoka.”_ Homura says internally. _“Or thank me? Still not sure about that one.”_

Sensing her awkwardness, Mami looks to Madoka for conversation, “And what about you? Anything interesting happen?”

No response. She's kind of just staring. A little...

“Madoka?” Mami calls out to her, waving her hand.

“Eh?” Madoka snaps out of her daze.

“I'm up here.” Mami says with a sympathetic smile, pointing to her eyes.

“O-Oh. Uh...” Madoka stammers, blushing. “Sorry.”

Mami waves it off, “Ah, it's okay! I'm used to it. People stare a lot no matter where I go.”

They both chuckle awkwardly, until Nagisa pops up from beside Mami and states with her mouth full, “Big boobs.” and then pokes them.

“Hey!” Mami yelps, swatting her finger away carefully. Nagisa just keeps trying to do it, and they get into a brief game of keep-away until Mami loses her temper slightly and chases the hyperactive child off, her screaming “Mami has big boobs!” over and over until the bedroom door slams shut in the near distance.

Kyouko interjects from the silence which that creates, “Well, she's not wrong!” Her and Sayaka seem to have stopped arguing for once due to the interruption, and promptly forgot what they were arguing about, so it's a lot quieter now. Everyone is either smiling or giggling fondly, except for Madoka who has her face buried into the top of the table.

Homura rubs her head and whispers, “You alright?”

Madoka jumps slightly, “Yeah! Yeah. It's nothing.” She's clearly flustered, and bashfully shakes off Homura's hand.

To restart the conversation, Mami asks her again, “Anyways... Madoka, how have things been?”

She thinks for a moment, quickly going from upset with herself to plainly content, “Well, I've been having some weird dreams lately, but it's been really peaceful. I'm glad that I don't have to worry, and every day can just be as relaxing as this. When I was overseas, it always felt like I was on some other planet, like I always had to be on-guard. So I'm happy to just be back. And to think I could meet someone like Homura so soon... I really wish this could just go on forever, sometimes!”

Everyone sort of goes silent in the midst of her small speech, except for Mami who compliments it, “Well, that was very touching. But you have to grow up eventually, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so...” Madoka says, looking down. But it only lasts briefly. “Well, maybe being an adult will be just as good, even if it's different. Mama says that it's hard, but you also get to drink, so it's okay!”

Sayka chokes as soon as she says that, “Ha! God, your mom _would_ say that, wouldn't she?”

Madoka pouts and yells, “Hey!”

Sayaka chuckles and slaps her knee, “Kidding, kidding! But seriously, I don't think following in her footsteps like _that_ is going to be healthy for you. My mom said that you should just do what you enjoy, and you won't have to drink. Er, well, I guess she does anyways, but still!”

Madoka continues to pout and roll her eyes anyways. But it's only in this motion that she's able to notice Homura, who's staring down with a bit of a dark look. She reaches over when she notices that her hands and the teacup she's holding in them are shaking, “...Hey, Homura?”

Homura nearly jumps out of her seat, darting up to stare at her, clearly troubled. Her cheeks are just ever-so-slightly wet. She answers, “Yes?”

“Are...you okay?” Madoka places a hand on her shoulder and whispers to her, “Were you _crying?_”

Homura shakes her head and keeps Madoka at a short distance, “I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine. It's...”

Everyone is looking at her. Or so she feels.

“...I'm glad you're that happy.” she says several seconds later, allowing herself to smile warmly at her.

Madoka returns the smile, “Thanks. Hey...”

“Yes?” Homura answers while flipping her hair back and brushing her bangs aside.

Madoka brings up a fork-full of cake, “Open up!” she says with a grin.

Homura gladly accepts.

They all decide to stay there until an hour before Madoka's curfew, since she's the earliest of everyone. Everyone leaves with bellies full of sugar, possibly a pound huskier than before, and contently warmed hearts that beat away the natural coolness of night.

And as they wave goodbye to each other, Mami goes back inside to clean up. The apartment is quiet. Nagisa probably passed out. Mami just hopes she got changed beforehand. Wrinkled clothes are definitely her least favorite thing, recently. That and the girl's seemingly natural affinity for pranks. Her and Kyouko would get along.

The sink is only half full. The cake is all gone, except for one piece that Mami decides to have for herself while staring at the clock on the wall going from sunset to midnight in what seems like no time. She saves the usual shower for tomorrow morning, as her bout of laziness has suddenly dictated.

But instead of going to bed, she only finds herself staring out the window at the city lights below, drifting off into thought until her eyes grow so worn that she can't stand anymore. And despite the lingering thoughts in her head, she ends up considering today as being “good”, for what that word is worth. When she returns to the bedroom to find Nagisa sound asleep and thankfully in her pajamas, she sighs happily and practically collapses into bed, slumber quickly taking her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a pain in the ass to finish. I think I was stuck with writer's block on it for two weeks before I finally got the second half done.


	16. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka comes to a stunning realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains mild sexual imagery and themes.

Madoka opens her eyes. Nearly sealed shut from tiredness. It's dark, almost pitch-black. She looks over to her alarm clock: a few hours before it's supposed to go off. But she doesn't even give thought to what might have woken her up at such an odd time; the only thing consuming her thoughts is an immense hunger. Her stomach growling tells her as much. She groggily stands up and slides into her slippers, stumbling through the dark and into the hallway, where she smells something _very_ appetizing coming from below in the kitchen. She follows her nose, slowly going down the steps and expecting to find her father for some reason making breakfast in the middle of the night.

Though the lights are dimmed, they're still enough to make her recoil slightly and rub her eyes before spying what is possibly the least expected thing she could have imagined being in her kitchen at four or five in the morning: Homura. Hair in braids, wearing a cheery pink apron, cooking pancakes almost as large as the plate they're stacked on top of, and covered in fruits and whipped cream and all sorts of amazing drizzles.

She turns to Madoka, revealing a pair of bright red glasses and cheerfully greets her, “Ah! Madoka, come sit down, breakfast is almost ready!”

Idly, Madoka sits at the table as if nothing were wrong with this scenario. And about as quickly as she sits, the food is done and sitting in front of her, with Homura standing right by her side. Madoka makes a stupid grin on her face from the sheer, overpowering aroma of the food, and decides to dig in immediately.

But something is wrong. Despite all of the sweets stacked on top of them, and despite the wonderful smell, every bite she takes is bland and tasteless. As if sensing her dissatisfaction, Homura bends down and asks, her voice high and squeaky, “Is something wrong? Is it not sweet enough?”

Madoka hums and shakes her head lightly. In response, Homura leans over the table and soon lies atop it, the pancakes now gone. She spreads herself out as she asks, “Then, how about...this?”

It's then that Madoka realizes she's not just wearing an apron. She's _only_ wearing an apron. And now that she looks closer, it's not even an apron; it's a layer of cream made to LOOK like an apron! Her eyes go wide from their tired state as she blushes madly, “H-Homura...”

“Dig in~” Homura slurs. And so she does. Inch-by-inch, from toe to head, all while the girl beneath her is moaning. “Is it sweet?” she asks.

“Yeah...” Madoka answers and continues.

Slowly, Homura's voice starts to ascend into a crescendo until she's finally screaming, SCREAMING into her ear, and it just KEEPS GETTING LOUDER. AND LOUDER. AND...!

She looks up. There's a blaring sound resounding through her head. Homura's head is now a trumpet. The oven explodes into glitter.

Madoka wakes up again, her entire body overheated despite having kicked the covers off in her sleep. Looking to her left reveals the culprit of the interruption: Her alarm clock blaring into her ear. She looks to her right, noting her stuffed rabbit is damp with presumably saliva. She grumbles, smacks the alarm clock frustratedly, and goes to wake her mother up for work with the least enthusiastic expression she can muster. It's a pretty upsetting start to the day, to be sure.

By the time she's made it to her usual path to school and meets up with Sayaka, Kyouko, Hitomi, and Kyousuke, she's still not managed to wipe the tired frown off of her face. Sayaka addresses this, “Hey, hey, what's up? You look like your breakfast came out burnt!” she throws an arm around Madoka's shoulder.

But Madoka just groans grumpily, “No... Just had a weird dream.” And right now, she's hyper-aware of Sayaka's chest pushing up against her arm, thus pushing back and coming off as slightly hostile.

“Whoa,” Sayaka says, backing up “bad mood. Got it.” She looks back at Kyouko and yells out, “Hey! Ya got any Pocky left!?”

“Why!?” Kyouko yells back, chewing on a stick.

“She's havin' a bad morning!”

“Oh!” Kyouko nods, falls back a bit, then hands her a pocky stick, which she then hands to Madoka. She takes it, but still doesn't look like it helped much. Like the pancakes in the dream, the normally sweet chocolate tastes bland. She sighs and chews it up quickly.

Sayaka looks at Kyouko for what to do. Kyouko shrugs and keeps walking. Sayaka rolls her eyes and reassures her friend, “Hey, maybe reading another one of those letters will get you back up?” Madoka groans, though the idea is more appealing than just a sweet snack. Sayaka isn't satisfied, though, “Hey, what's up with you?” She jumps in front and stops her, “Hey, it's your _best friend_ Sayaka. You can tell me anything, so what's wrong?”

Madoka stops for only a brief moment before walking around her, but she still answers, “...Well, I've just been having a lot of weird thoughts lately.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Mmm...” Madoka hums, recounting something embarrassing enough to make her blush. Not even the dream she had that morning, which she can't quite get out of her head despite the horrifying interruption at the end. “Well, like, I can't stop thinking about...” she stops herself right there before she says “Homura”. One mention of the girl will have Sayaka just as grumpy as her. Instead, she says, “...other girls. Like, you, and Kyouko, and Mami, and Homura...”

“That doesn't sound weird at all.” Sayaka points out.

Madoka scoffs and pouts unintentionally, “I mean— not like that! Like...”

Sayaka waits while she struggles to describe it.

“I don't know! It's hard to explain.” she finally yells.

Sayaka puts a finger to her chin in mock thought, “Hmm. Well, what did your mom say?”

“I haven't told her. Didn't know how to say it.”

“Oh. Uh... I guess if you do figure it out, just speak up! Alright?”

Madoka nods, “Alright.”

Sayaka pauses for a moment before realizing they're just standing there silently like idiots, “...Yeah. Sorry, let's get going.” And off they go.

Finally arriving at school, they all convene around Madoka at the lockers and wait for her to open today's letter, which falls out easily when she opens hers up. Madoka narrates, “You are beautiful just the way you are. Don't let anyone tell you what to be.”

Sayaka chokes up, “O-Oh my god, that's so cheesy! Who keeps writing these things? I mean _god, _that sounds like it's from an anime!”

The girls all start giggling. Except for Madoka. She looks at it, smiles faintly, and puts it away before returning to her previous attitude and just walking away to class without the others, leaving them concerned and confused.

Kyouko asks Sayaka, “Oi, what's up with her? You two talked, right?”

“Yeah,” Sayaka answers “said she was getting some weird thoughts about us, lately. I mean, I know she's been pretty distracted the past few days, but never like _this._”

“...Weird thoughts?” Kyouko asks with a suspicious amount of curiosity.

“Yeah.”

“Like?”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

Sayaka explains, “She didn't know how to describe it. Just kept lookin' away and getting all embarrassed.”

“_Embarrassed?_” Kyouko accentuates.

“Yeah.”

“Thinking about _us_?”

Sayaka gets a bit angry, “Yes, do I need to repeat myself!?”

“No, no, just...” Kyouko waves her off. She goes into a sudden deep thought; looks at where Madoka ran off to, then back at Sayaka, then up at the ceiling. “Oh. Oh, _I_ get it.” she says with a smirk.

“What?” Sayaka asks, but Kyouko doesn't answer. She just smiles at her knowingly. “What!?” Sayaka gets louder.

Kyouko just laughs at her, “Haha! Nothing. Forget it. We'll see what happens.”

Kyouko walks away, leaving Sayaka and Hitomi more confused than before.

* * *

Madoka has a problem. Well, the same problem as before: Distraction. It's the middle of class, but she can't quite seem to keep her eyes on the board. Instead, they are keenly affixed to the back of Homura's head as she stares out the glass walls of the classroom. Although most of it is gone to memory, she can still vaguely recall enough of her dream that it nags at the back of her head incessantly. So much that the only way to alleviate it is to just..._stare._ Her primary thought being that Homura is really, _really_ pretty with her perfect, shiny hair and skin so pale that it's like a doll's; a traditional beauty who looks so damned good in black that it's almost criminal. God, she needs to see her in a tuxedo. But the version she saw in her dream was absolutely _adorable, _instead. It's just something about the glasses that just says “please protect and spoil me” that she can't shake. It hits her to her core, as if it were a genetically predisposed fetish of some kind. She starts to imagine this Homura like she was in that dream, and all of the extended fantasy ways she wishes it would have gone, and unknowingly starts to grin about it.

Of course, Madoka doesn't know that Homura knows that she's staring at her, because Homura is ALSO staring at _her_ through the reflection in the glass wall she's staring at. (Well, that and the conga line of clara dolls walking around outside that everyone seems to just be ignoring.) And she's mildly sweating, finding it hard to keep her composure. She can't help but think, _“Is... Is that what it looks like when I stare at people? She's just staring and...smiling!? It's...creepy! What the hell, me? And what the hell is that smile!? What on earth could she be thinking? Geez... It's a good thing nobody knows I'm looking at them. Should I turn around? No? No.”_

Hitomi, being seated right next to Madoka, notices and waves a hand in front of her face. She can't quite say anything yet, but Madoka at least snaps out of it and tries to pay attention to the lesson again. Spoiler alert: That doesn't last long. By the time lessons are over, her friends all start gathering around again and chatting idly. Except for Homura, as usual. Madoka's a bit upset about that. But before she can start to inwardly rant about it, Sayaka hops onto her desk and asks, “Hey, what's up? Hitomi tells me you've been staring off into space all day.”

Madoka looks down and doesn't quite answer.

“Or maybe you were staring at something else?”

Still nothing.

“Do I need to get the chu— I mean Homura over here?”

Madoka suddenly looks up, “No! No. I'm fine.”

“Really?” Sayaka puts her hands on her hips. “You usually jump to go talk to her.”

“I mean, I do, but...” Madoka trails off, now staring at Sayaka's chest.

Sayaka gives her a minute; a long, full minute of silence before speaking up, “Uh...Madoka? My eyes are up here.”

She looks back up, panicked and embarrassed, then back down to her desk and around the room. She can't seem to quite look in any particular direction, and it ultimately drives her to the point of having an outburst: She slams her hands on her desk, shoots out of it, and yells, “I need to...! I...” She lowers her voice when she realizes that everyone glanced at her, “I need to go see the...nurse.”

Sayaka looks concerned, “Alright... Seeya later, I guess?” She pats her on the back and goes back to fucking around with Hitomi and Kyouko.

Madoka isn't really one to lie. Often, anyways. But this is different. If they knew where she was really going, she would never hear the end of it. And as much as she cares for Sayaka, she can be REALLY overbearing at times. Nobody else can know, either; not until she's ready. Hitomi is a gossip machine, Kyouko will endlessly tease you about the slightest thing, and Homura...

Well, Homura would probably be the only one who acts respectfully. Whether she'd care is up to debate. And besides, her feelings are weird right now. By the end of her stressed-out pondering, she's made her way to a dark wooden door with a nameplate: “Masashi Yasui – School Counselor”.

She takes a deep breath, swallows her pride, and knocks on the door before slowly opening it and inching in. “Uhh... Mr. Yasui?” she timidly calls out.

It doesn't look like anyone is in here, until the chair behind the counselor's desk spins around suddenly to reveal a middle-aged man in a brown suit, with glasses. “Hello?” he asks “Can I help you?”

“Uh...” Madoka tries to speak, entering the room completely but just standing there awkwardly.

Seeing she isn't about to answer anytime soon, he asks, “Your name?”

“Oh. Madoka Kaname.” she answers, finding a seat in a nearby chair.

“Madoka Kaname, let me see...” he says, looking through something on his computer. After a minute, he says, “I'm not expecting you. Then again, I'm also not busy at the moment. So I guess I can spare some time. Now, what is it you're here for?”

Having had some time to think, Madoka explains briefly, “Well, it's just that I've been feeling really weird lately and didn't know what to think of it.”

“Weird?” he asks “How? And feel free to sit on the couch, behind you.”

She does so, “Well, I guess it's like...I don't think other people feel like I am. Like it's just different...or something.”

The counselor chuckles as he takes a seat in the adjacent armchair, “Well, that's a very common thing to think. Sometimes they're right. But other times, what they think or feel is just completely normal and only feels strange because it's unfamiliar. But I can't really go into anything specific unless you want to tell me exactly what these 'feelings' you're having are.”

Madoka grumbles for a moment, as if trying to decide exactly how open to be. In the end, her decision is fairly predictable, “I, uh... Lately I've just been noticing my friends a lot more. Noticing how much they're growing. Maybe they were always like that but I'm just now noticing, but I can't even focus with it all on my mind...”

He puts a pen to his chin, looks at his watch, then says, “It's affecting your grades? Well, the sooner we solve this the better, then. So when you say 'noticing', what do you mean?”

“I mean like...” she thinks for a second “...Well, any time I'm going to see Mami or Sayaka, I always just end up staring at them a lot, and can't speak normally. And with Homura... She's just _so pretty_ that whenever I look at her or get near her or hear her, it feels like my heart's about to explode! I can't stop, and I couldn't even talk to her today because it was too embarrassing! And that stupid dream didn't help...”

“Dream?” he asks, suddenly very intrigued.

“Yeah. A weird dream.”

“Mind elaborating?”

Madoka hesitates, rightfully. It takes a while, but she ultimately decides, “I...don't think that's a good idea. I mean, the details, anyways. It was just a really...”

He waits for her with intrigue.

“..._really _perverted dream. And I just don't know where it came from...”

“I see.” he says, a bit deep in thought. Eventually, he makes the mistake of asking her about Homura. Madoka proceeds to go on a ten-minute ramble about how adorable she is, listing out all of the things they've done together since she transferred in. Not resting for a second, just going on and on and seemingly forgetting who she's even talking to or why she started rambling in the first place.

Fittingly, she eventually stops herself and asks, “...Wait, what was I doing, again?”

With a surprised smile on his face, the counselor reminds her, “We were talking about why you were having these feelings. And I believe I know what's happening.”

“Really?” Madoka asks eagerly.

“Well...” he hesitates “have you ever had a crush on anyone before?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

He pause for a moment, “I see, now...”

Madoka cocks her head to the side with suspicion.

“Madoka, what you're feeling is completely normal.” he reassures her.

Madoka looks a bit surprised, but doesn't say anything.

He continues, “Girls your age tend to get a lot of crushes. And oftentimes, it ends up being on another girl. But don't worry, you're not weird. It's a phase that you were bound to go through at some point. It's okay to practice with what you're comfortable with before moving on to the 'real deal', so to speak.”

Madoka has to think about that one for a moment. But no matter how much she wants to submit to that diagnosis, it awakens some primal feeling of discomfort that she cannot shake. Something compelling her to go further. But as she's realized so far with many adults, they're not exactly prone to changing their minds. So she stands up and dismisses herself suddenly, “...I'm sorry, I need to go, now.”

“Are you sure?” he asks hesitantly. “I still have—”

“No, I...” she interrupts, but also hesitates for a moment while thinking up an excuse “...need to get back to class.”

Without waiting for a response, she quickly walks out and rests herself on the wall beside the door. There, she thinks to herself, _“That...that just can't be right. Not with her. I've never felt like this before, it can't just be temporary, can it? I can't just ignore this, can I? I... I need to talk to mama. She'll know what to do, she always does!”_

With that, she slowly marches back to meet back up with everyone, but the rest of her day is spent in quiet, patient contemplation.

* * *

Instead of heading home right away after school, or spending time with her friends, Madoka opts to linger around the nearest park to her house and coming home a bit after her mother usually gets back from work. Around dinner, coincidentally.

Coming in, she announces herself quickly, “I'm home! Mama, where are you?”

Junko calls back from the kitchen, “Right here!”

Madoka can hear the sizzling of whatever's cooking, and the strong smell of curry tips off what it is. She walks in casually and tells her, “Mama, I need to ask you something.”

“Well go ahead, I'm listening.” she replies, in the midst of washing her hands with her back turned.

“_In private_.” Madoka adds seriously.

Junko pauses, then turns off the sink. “Oh.” she says, turning around to meet her with her own serious look. “Tomo, honey, just call us down when dinner's ready.” He nods.

So they walk by, with Tatsuya in his high-chair cooing at them on the way, and then up to Madoka's room where they close the door to prevent any accidental eavesdropping.

“So,” Junko asks as she sits on the edge of the bed “what's wrong?”

After a second or two of consideration, Madoka explains practically everything that happened that day from the dream, all the way to what the school counselor said about it all. And then she goes on rambling about Homura's finer qualities in the same way she did then, but in a bit more excruciating detail both to drive the point home and because it's a more comfortable situation.

After the extremely long-winded explanation, Junko stares at her daughter like a deer in headlights, utterly floored but somehow also not surprised. She grabs her by the shoulders gently and asks, “Madoka, who did you say your counselor was?”

“Uh...” Madoka thinks back “Masashi Yasui?”

Junko responds with mild contempt in her tone, “Well, I'm going to have to have a _little_ _talk_ with Mr. Yasui, this week. As for you...” She releases her grip, then goes into deep thought for another minute. In the end, she reassures her, “Madoka, don't listen to the old farts that say that sort of thing. It doesn't matter what you are, love is love. Remember when we were back in America and I introduced you to one of my coworkers? And her 'friend'?”

“Yeah?” Madoka responds carefully.

Junko just flat-out admits, “Honey, they aren't just friends. They're married.”

“What?” Madoka asks, dumbfounded.

Again, junko tells it to her straight (lol), “They're gay. That sort of thing is legal, over there.”

If she wasn't already, Madoka goes wide-eyed at the realization, “...Really?”

Junko sighs, and tries a bit of a different approach, “Madoka, have you every had a crush on a guy before?”

“Of course.” Madoka answers almost scriptedly.

“And did you friends also crush on the same person?”

“Well...yeah.”

“And you said 'of course'?”

“I... Yes.” Madoka starts to sweat a little from the pressure.

“And _why_ were you crushing on them?”

“Because...” Madoka tries to think of a reason, but keeps coming back to only one: “...they were. Isn't that...what you're supposed to do? ”

By the concerned stare her mother is giving her, Madoka sees there's something wrong with what she just said. And then she pieces it all together, and only has one reaction: “_Oh my god, I'm gay._”

Junko nods, “That's right.” She pats her on the head, “He's wrong. It's not a phase. That's just people trying to force you to be what they want you to be.”

“So...what do I do?” Madoka asks.

“Well,” Junko thinks “if you really like this girl, then just say it. Don't make the mistake I did and wait years.”

“But...” Madoka starts to doubt “...what if she doesn't like me back? I mean, she's just so..._attractive_, I don't know how she could—”

Junko stops her with a pat on the back, “Madoka. I can tell you right now from experience that if it wasn't meant to be, then it won't be. And that probably won't change any time soon. But if you never try, you'll never know for sure, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life if you don't say something. I know that sounds like I'm exaggerating, but I still wonder to this day how things would have played out if I confessed to my crush back in middle school before they got hitched with someone else. When I remember that, I can't help but think that even if they rejected me, I would still prefer it over just never knowing. I'm still grateful for meeting your father instead, but it's just the kind of thing that eats away at the back of your head.”

Throughout that entire speech, she had to resist the urge to just bluntly say, “That girl is crushing on you harder than a steamrolling crushing pavement.” or some similarly cheesy simile. Just a moment after she finishes the speech, Tomohisa yells from downstairs that the food is ready, but they both ignore it for the moment.

Madoka can only sit there and listen, unsure of what she's actually feeling. Some mixture of guilt for having seriously considered never speaking up, sadness on behalf of her mother's past, and surprise that she actually had those feelings. Then, she gets the idea to ask, “Did you ever have feelings for another girl?”

Junko laughs it off, “Ha! Did I? I went out with two before I met your father! After that little experience, I resolved myself to never hold back again. Had a lot of failed romances after that. But it all ended well, so those two I _don't_ regret like the first. I got you out of it, didn't I?”

Madoka smiles at that, all of her previously negative feelings coming back around to a mild sense of pride and admiration. “Thanks.” she says briefly.

“Feel better?” Junko asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now let's get downstairs and eat something.” Junko gets up and leaves without any protest from Madoka, who just sits there, lost in thought for a little while before following. She would have to pick the right time to say something. Not tomorrow, but definitely in the next week.

She grins just imagining how it could go.

...

Later that night, Junko and Tomohisa are finally settling down, in bed together, just lying back in silence since they had just finished putting Tatsuya to bed. Silent until Junko decides to call out to him, “Hey honey?”

“Yeah?”

“It looks like our little girl is finally becoming a woman.” she semi-bluntly puts it.

And yet, Tomohisa still doesn't quite get it. Or perhaps he doesn't want to believe it. “What?” he asks.

Junko explains further, “When she brought me upstairs earlier, we got to talking. She spent _five full minutes_ telling me about a wet dream she had about one of her friends in _graphic detail._ She's growing up.”

He sits up at that moment and just sort of...stares at the wall. Perhaps in disbelief, perhaps in shock. Or both. Maybe that was just too much information. He doesn't quite say as much, “So... she's starting to think about that sort of thing, huh?”

Junko nods.

“I guess we need to start buying _those_ things then, right?”

Junko nods again.

“And she'll start talking more about people she likes.”

Junko continues to nod.

“And bringing home guys...” he starts to sound plainly shaken, but calmly continues “I'll have to test them. Each and every one, just as your father did to me.”

At this point, Junko _wants_ to tell him. To alleviate those fears, although they may be replaced with confusion instead. She _really_ wants to. But she ALSO really wants to see the priceless reaction when Madoka inevitably brings home a girl instead of a guy. Or even better, if she reveals that her and that Homura girl are dating, if that becomes a thing.

The temptation is too powerful. She needs to see what he does. She keeps quiet the rest of the night and pretends to go to sleep while her husband goes on calmly ranting about his assumed fatherly duties and anxieties. She almost feels bad for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It takes an awfully LONG hiatus to make a LONG chapter.
> 
> This and the previous chapter took a while to get out, so sorry about that. Especially during the quarantine. Luckily, I don't expect the next 4 to take nearly as long. And it's gonna be GREAT.


	17. Denial(?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura and Kyouko play some vidya and have an awkward talk.

Finally, it has come. The first weekend of May. A day Homura never thought she would live to see. A special weekend. And how is she spending this weekend, you may ask?

With fucking Kyouko. She had completely forgotten what week it was when she accepted her proposition for a playdate. That said, there are worse ways to spend the weekend.

Fighting Walpy, for one.

Anyways, she begrudgingly waits by the door in her pajamas (not the sexy ones) for the semi-welcome guest, not deigning to dress up even slightly for the occasion. Kyouko wouldn't do it, either. Probably. Around 1800 hours (6:00 PM for lay-people), she finally shows up with two plastic bags.

“Yo! I brought SNACKS! And some food. You like KFC?” she announces.

Homura rolls her eyes, “It's not Christmas.”

“_Every_ day is Christmas in MY house!” Kyouko proclaims.

“Well, this is my house.”

“So you don't want any?”

Homura pauses for a moment, sighs in defeat when she realizes she's both not getting rid of her and actually kind of in the mood for it, and unlatches the door, “Fine, come on. Let's just get started, already.”

Kyouko chuckles and pushes the door aside, then closes it with her damn foot. She sets the snacks and KFC down on the central coffee table as per Homura's request, and starts ogling the apartment. A small studio. A bed in the top left corner, a glass table with a couch and comfortable-looking chair by the right wall adjacent to her desktop, which is set up in the top right corner. The only door in the entire apartment is to the right, just before the couch, probably leading to the bathroom. Across from the table and couch is an old LCD TV set with a playstation hooked up alongside a DVD player. Just beyond those is the kitchen, which is basically just a hallway with a half-wall with shelves between it and the rest of the apartment, barely enough room for two people and no real door. The rest of it is empty, and sparsely colored with muted, sterile tones of white, grey, and other neutral colors that help reduce the claustrophobic size. The few tall, winding lamps that occupy three of the four corners — one by the computer, one on the right corner, and one just before the kitchen entrance — make it just not-dank enough to be called some semblance of “cozy”, for what that's worth.

Kyouko looks a bit dazed — maybe concerned — and comments, “Wow, this is...clean.”

“_Keep it_ that way.” Homura demands sternly, knowing well her capacity for trashing any environment.

She chuckles again, “Heh. Kind of uppity, aren't ya?” She sits at the table, on one half of the couch, starting to open up everything, “So come on, get some plates, sit down and talk to ol' Kyouko and tell me what's up.”

She isn't going to win this battle. Not until they start the games up, at least. She gets a few — paper, not ceramic — plates from the tiny kitchen and sits on the other half of the couch.

“Wow, really?” Kyouko asks in reaction to the plates. “Figured you'd have something fancy, like fine china.”

“I don't like doing dishes.” Homura flatly states.

Kyouko shrugs, “Well, you got me there. I don't think anyone does, except mom! Dirty dishes means we ate well, that day. So she gets a bit proud of it, y'know? But enough about me. Come on, let's talk. I don't like playing with anyone who's already in a bad mood.”

While she's slowly serving herself some fried chicken and barely touching it otherwise, she explains, “Well, I forgot what week it was when I invited you over. Honestly, I'd rather have spent tonight with someone else. But it would've been rude to just cancel a day before it happens, so...here we are.”

“Oh?” Kyouko says with her mouth full “Am who da?”

Homura glares at her, “First of all, swallow. Second, I was referring to Madoka Kaname.”

Kyouko swallows, then shouts haughtily, “Ohoho! So why her?”

Homura starts listing off things, “She doesn't make a mess. She's not annoying, very pleasant in fact. She doesn't make me uncomfortable to simply be around. She's very respectful, and nice to be around. Is what I'm saying.”

Ignoring all of the indirect digs at her, Kyouko suddenly asks, “Does she run warm or cold?”

“Co— What?” Homura almost answers.

“Ahaaa!” Kyouko finger-guns “So you've slept together?”

“For lack of a better phrase, I guess. I don't know if she was lonely or just wanted to keep me company, but she refused to let me sleep separately.”

Kyouko rips a chicken leg in half and starts talking with her mouth full, “Aw, shit, not what I meant but...” she swallows “...oh well. Well, I'm not that clingy, so don't expect nothin'.”

“I'm not. And _you're _just visiting.” Homura points, slowly nibbling at her own food with the other.

Kyouko chuckles, “Heh, you got me. Can't mooch that hard off of you again, can I?”

“Guess not.”

“So anyways, what've you got here? I brought something if you don't have any multiplayer.” She picks up and dangles one of the bags which still has something in it, presumably a game case.

“And that is...?” Homura raises a brow.

Kyouko bites into her food as she says that, then panics as she tries to swallow while flailing her arms about and explaining, “Oh, god, it's the funnest shit. Ever heard of Borderlands?”

“No.”

“How...?” she shakes her head “Never mind. Anyways, it's a first-person shooter. You're this badass treasure hunter on an alien planet trying to track down ancient alien tech and...!”

As Kyouko starts fangirling over how awesome Borderlands is, Homura just completely tunes out and starts nodding along while thinking about all of the things she's probably missing out on right now had she been paying attention earlier that week. I pray the irony of this is not lost on you.

An indeterminate amount of time later (but definitely too long), Homura just interrupts her, “Alright, I got it. Let's just finish eating and pick something out. Actually, no, you finish first and take a look. They're all by the console.”

“I noticed.” Kyouko says, stuffing her face with more fries than she can clearly handle. Well, she handles them anyways.

Homura averts her eyes from the vile sight before her gag reflex surrenders. Really, the thought of eating in general at this point just viscerally disgusts her. The sole exception being anything made by Madoka or her family, since that somehow always ends up tasting like something other than mashed potatoes and disappointment. About 5 minutes pass between her telling Kyouko to finish and the rest of the food magically vanishing. God only knows where it all goes. Well, or not.

Anyways, she gets up and rummages through the grand total of three games Homura owns: Dark Souls (but we already knew that), Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater, and Portal 2. She comments, “Wow, this...isn't a lot. And only one is multiplayer. Huh. Well, I guess I'll have to show you— AAAAH!” Kyouko yelps as she jumps up.

Startled, Homura glances upwards to catch the form of the clara doll Okubyou in the corner of her eye, who she assumes must have either Koncho'd or otherwise inappropriately touched Kyouko just now.

Of course, Kyouko yells at her first, “Oi! What's the big idea!? I didn't take you for a prankster!”

Homura flips her hair as she stands up, “That wasn't me.” she then looks towards the kitchen in front of them and yells, “**Okubyou! **I know that was you, quit it!”

Kyouko looks even more confused, “Uh...what? There someone else here?”

Homura grumbles and comes up with a cover story, “Er...it's a cousin of mine. Yes.”

“Eeeh? Another? Counted like five so far; how many do you have?”

Just to get things out of the way, she gives a correct number, “14. I have 14 cousins who regularly spend time here. Yes, it is bothersome.”

As she says this, Okubyou, Ganko, and Usotsuki pop their heads out from around the corner to the kitchen and giggle ominously before retreating when glared at by their master.

“...And they're _all_ younger?” Kyouko looks dumbfounded.

“Yes.” Homura says, eliciting another chuckle from Usotsuki.

Kyouko doesn't seem to look like she's buying it, until she does, “...Right. You got a fucked up family sitch, huh?”

Well, that was unexpected. That said, it hits an actual note for once. Usually, she's pretty nonchalant and provocative about these types of things, but the sudden sincere tone she takes catches Homura off-guard; she almost breaks composure for a moment. But in the end, she shakes herself out of it and replies while flipping her hair again, “You could say that as a matter of fact. But it doesn't matter. Don't pay attention to those kids, they were raised poorly and just do as they please.”

Despite her usual skepticism, Kyouko readily accepts this, “That type, huh? Gotta be in the spotlight. Yeah, I've seen that. So anyways, I guess it's a good thing I brought my own game, huh? That or we'd be stuck playing...what, board games? What else is there around here?”

“I have a computer. And a few board games. A deck of cards.” Homura starts listing off.

“Yeah, I noticed the computer. Anything on—”

“**No.**” Homura firmly refuses.

Kyouko throws her hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay. So I guess we're going with my game, then.” Without hesitation, she pops the case open, turns the system on, and puts the disk in. Homura turns the TV on remotely and sets it to the right source, and they both sit back on the couch with controllers in hand.

“So...” Homura tries to ask about it without seeming like a ***** for not listening in the first place “...I kind of zoned out, what's with this game, again?”

Kyouko gladly explains, “Oh, it's cool as hell! So the basics of it is that you're a vault hunter looking for alien tech, and there's this guy named Jack who's the big bad and is trying to kill you throughout, and then you get like MILLIONS of guns to fight him with! And you shoot monsters and bandits and robots... And there's a robot assassin, and a magical siren, and a little girl who makes tons of bombs...”  
  
Homura immediately thinks back to her younger self. Er, relatively younger, back when she first started as a magical girl.

“...Well, there's actually like THREE of the magical girls!” Homura knows better, but still twitches and cringes at the mere mention of the phrase. Kyouko cuts herself short, “Anyways, maybe I should just show you. It's done loading, anyways.”

“So what do I do?”

“Oh, uh, start a new game, then pick out who you want to play as.”

“Okay...” Homura does as told. After a lengthy and slightly underwhelming opening cinematic, she starts flipping between the four available characters, and begins to ask what they do, but Kyouko's already got her.

“Right, so, Axton is the guy who just shoots things. He can send out a turret. It's trash, don't play as him. Salvador can wield two guns at the same time, Zero can make a decoy and run around chopping people up with a sword, and Maya can like, suspend people in midair while you shoot them.”

“Huh.” Homura can only say, intrigued by one most obviously interesting choice. She ultimately chooses it: Maya. Predictably, her being the only female player character. After she puts in a name, Kyouko proceeds to pick Salvador and the game starts with its opening: the two of them being dug out of the snow by the obnoxious robot who introduces himself as CL4-TP, or Claptrap. During which Kyouko (equally obnoxiously) shouts at him to “shut up already.”

And immediately afterwards, Homura is already asking, “So where are the guns?”

“Just give it a minute.” Kyouko sighs “Gotta get through the stupid tutorial.”

And so they do. Several minutes of wading through the snow and Claptrap's annoying voice later, they watch as his eye literally gets ripped out of his mechanical skull, rendering him blind, and finally get their first guns: Two shitty pistols.

“Wow, this is...” Homura starts.

Kyouko finishes for her, “Terrible? Yeah, you'll get better ones, don't worry. Anyways, the rest of this area's pretty effortless. Just uh...” She shows her the shooting mechanics, assuming she's never played an FPS before. She likely hasn't. And after that, she continues, “So anyways, while we're doing this, let's talk for a bit.”

“Okay...” Homura says suspiciously.

“So...” Kyouko tries to find a way to say what she wants, but isn't the best wordsmith “...Have you ever like, really liked someone?”

Homura immediately guesses, “Are you asking me for relationship advice?”

“What?” Kyouko acts offended “No! No, I can do that fine by myself. Okay, let me try a different question...”

“Mhm.” Homura hums, idly shooting yeti look-alikes in the face and being way too good at it.

Kyouko asks hesitantly, already sure of what the answer will likely be but still afraid of that 5% chance that she could be wrong and trigger a big red flag, “What... What do you think about the whole LGBT movement?”

Homura is some vague sense of surprised to hear her come out with that question so soon, but replies honestly, “I'm...an ally. I was raised catholic, but I guess I realized that what your father keeps preaching about is true, and I don't care about religion anymore, anyways. If people want to just live their lives and be themselves, I don't think anyone should have the right to stamp on that. Love is love, and all of that.” She's trying not to get emotional about it, but every word is trying to make her voice crack in some mix of outrage and passion. But as always, she subdues it.

“Wow.” Kyouko says incredulously “I didn't expect that sort of response. I mean, I expected something like that, but not so...much?”

Homura suddenly points at the screen, “Boss.”

“Oh, right.” Kyouko looks back at it “Just shoot it until it dies. Super weak.”

And so they do. While they then wait for the next scene to play out, Kyouko continues, “Well, I guess that's good, because I'm—”  
  
Homura groans and impatiently finishes for her, “Yes, I know. You're gay. Clearly. I don't get how the others haven't caught on.” Well, she has the advantage of literally being a living god of sorts, but the statement still holds some water to the other girls' endless naivety and obliviousness. Not that that isn't endearing, but still.

Kyouko is also surprised by THIS. “Wow, okay, didn't expect that. Yeah, you got it. But that wasn't really what I wanted to actually ask. Ah, how do I say this?”

Again impatiently, Homura finishes her thought for her, “I know, you like Sayaka. Do you not know what to say or something?”

“How did you—!?” Kyouko almost yells, but reels herself back, “Okay, yes. I like her. Is it really that obvious?”

“**Yes.** The fact that she hasn't figured it out yet is... I don't even know a word to describe it. I'm not surprised, but I'm still baffled. How can anyone be as _dense_ as her?”

“I know!” Kyouko shouts exasperatedly. “I know; I hate it, but I love it _so much_! I just don't know what to do. I know she's still got a thing for that guy who Hitomi's been dating for a while now...”

Homura interrupts her, “Hey, it's done.”

“Oh,” Kyouko looks back at the screen “open the chest up, take the shotgun. You can have it, I'll just get something else in a minute. And finish the quest.”

“Okay...” Homura looks back down at the controller for a moment, then at the screen. While she's trying to figure things out still, Kyouko keeps going.

“So she's still into him. I don't even know if she's bi or anything, — God, I hope so. Last thing I need is another straight crush. — but it's like walking around a minefield trying to figure out! Say the wrong thing and she'll just go into denial if she is, and might stop talking to me!”

Homura stops her while the game is loading again, “So...you _are_ asking me for relationship advice.”

She's got her there. Kyouko grunts, “Er... Well, it's not relationship advice if there's not even a relationship, right!?”

“You want to start one.” Homura retorts.

“Then... Okay, fine,” Kyouko admits “I am asking for that.”

“Well, too bad.”

“What!?”

“I don't have much experience in that, either.” Kyouko doesn't like it, but Homura is technically correct: The best kind of correct.

So she grumbles, “I just have to go it alone? Come on... Ugh... Why does this have to be so...?”

The next bout of gameplay after their conversation: shooting bad guys, gives her ample time to come up with an idea: Perhaps she can practice on Homura. She's sitting right here, and the topic is still up in the air. If she can get this girl to fess up (and she's like, 95 % sure that she's gay at this point), then surely it would help with her ultimate goal of earning a date with Sayaka.

And so once they've gone and shot up a whole town of bandits and are waiting for _yet another cutscene_ to finish, she turns her attention back to Homura and stammers to ask, “Uh...H-Homura, let me ask you something else.”

Homura sighs, exhausted from the conversations and just wanting to “hang” as it is commonly referred to, “Yes?”

Kyouko just goes straight for the jugular, “Are you a lesbian?”

“Uh.” Homura grunts as she nearly drops her controller, having to suppress her emotions and commit to that poker face. “N-No.” she clearly lies “Of course not. I mean look at me.”

It's at this moment that Kyouko realizes that she's now on the offense. The hesitation and poor reasoning tips her off practically immediately and only makes her more sure of herself. So she decides to go all in, “Look at you...what? Pretty girls can be that way, too. We're not all butch. And besides, look at this!” She picks up her phone and opens up Homura's twitter profile (@SpiderLillies). “Every picture...” she nearly shoves it in Homura's face, scrolling down, “...every picture is either you and madoka, or some model or celebrity! Look at this: You and her, you and her, you and her, then you posted an entire gallery of  _Natsuki Fujiwara _ in cosplay. Then more of you two, then a  _ton _ of Ayaka Ichinose, more of the usual, more gravure and cosplay pics, Koyuki Higashi's wedding photo, a bunch of things she's said, and ASAKO MAKIMURA IN TRADITIONAL CLOTHES!”

“They're influential!” Homura argues.

“And the ones with you and Madoka?”

“She's my friend!”

“Yeah, so am I, but I'm not on here.”

Homura chokes up. A moment passes of mere silence before Kyouko puts her phone away and just flatly asks her, “What the hell are you defending yourself from? It's just us here. You already know I am. Come on, if I was going to make fun of you I would have just done it anyways.”

Homura is still hesitant, but realizes that it's mostly just an irrational fear of some sort.

Kyouko adds to that, “You know, my dad said that if I'm honest, other people will be honest with me. But...”

Finally, Homura admits it, “Fine. Fine, you're right.”

Kyouko smiles, then pushes a bit more, “Alright, just say it.”

“Say what? I already said it.”

“_Really_ say it.”

Homura sighs, “Alright. I'm a lesbian. There, you happy? We both already know that.”

“Just wanted to hear it. God, you're stubborn.” Kyouko smirks and chuckles.

With that out of the way, they go quiet again and return to the game which has been patiently waiting for them. They decide to just forego the sidequests for now and skip straight to escorting the annoying robot across a frozen wasteland to kill yet more bandits. Around the time Boom and Bewm show up, Homura just silently mouths “What the fuck?”, to which Kyouko replies, “Yep.”

Homura points at the smaller one, “Is that...a child?”

“A 'midget.'” Kyouko corrects.

“A midget?”

“Yes.”

“This is weird.”

“It gets weirder.”

Homura facepalms, “Okay, let's just kill them alread—” Her character promptly gets blown to pieces by the giant cannon one of them is aiming at her.

“Oh yeah, that'll kill you.” Kyouko mentions too late, then runs to revive her and somehow avoids getting blown up. “Okay, you shoot the bigass gun, I'll shoot the midget.”

Homura shakes her head, “This is so wrong.”

“Just go with it.” Kyouko insists.

With another exasperated sigh, Homura just shoots and shoots and shoots, progressively getting more into it as things start exploding. She promptly comments upon blowing the cannon up, “Hmm. This is actually kind of good.”

“Right? Oh, just killed Bewm. Come pick up these grenade mods.”

“Grenade whats?”

Kyouko explains, “Mods. Changes the way they behave. Hold the pick up button and try throwing it.”

Homura picks on up at random, throws it, and hits Boom right in the face with a contact grenade. Surprisingly, she giggles at it.

“Wow, you're having _fun_?” Kyouko remarks sarcastically, while shooting the boss as well. “Don't see that every day.”

Homura rolls her eyes and shakes her head, ignoring her. Then they inevitably kill Boom as well without much trouble. He doesn't drop anything special. “Well, that was...”

“Anticlimactic?” Kyouko finishes for her. “Yeah, he can drop something really good but it's rare. Anyways, go stand by the cannon and as soon as it lets you, interact with it and shoot that gate where Claptrap is.”

“But...” Homura argues “he's standing right in front of it. Won't that kill him?”

“No, just do it.”

“He's telling us not to.”

“Well he's stupid and wrong, just shoot it.”

“But—”

“He is going to perpetually annoy us until you do.”

That's apparently all the motivation she needed to blast the gate. Waves of bandits come promptly pouring out. “Whoa.” she says, firing again and blowing them up as well, giggling again.

“Yeah, just keep doing that.” Kyouko tells her while she shoots a few stragglers.

The carnage goes on for a while, and they eventually stop coming, leaving a pile of garbage and money on the ground. Homura comments, “Okay, that was a bit fun.”

Kyouko nudges her, “You like it?”

“I do.” Homura confirms.

“Yeaaah!” Kyouko drones on. “So the little robot got kidnapped. We gotta go get him back and get off this glacier, so we have to go kill a hundred more bandits on that boat over there. You know, the one that's breathing fire.”

“_What?_”

“Yeah, it's awesome. But it's pretty smooth for a while, here. Next boss is at the top.”

As she would, Homura asks, “Anything we should do to prepare for it?”

Kyouko thinks for a moment, “Uh, get a fireproof shield? Yeah, just do that.”

“I got one of those earlier.” Homura says, proceeding to put it on even though it's a fair bit worse than her other one.

While they're going about shooting alien birds and insane bandits, Kyouko decides to go back a bit to their previous conversation, “So hey, you know I like Sayaka. What about you? You got—?”

“Of course not.” Homura answers way too quickly.

“Seriously?” Kyouko asks rhetorically. “Come on, you gotta have at least one person you like. Even a celebrity!”

“Nope.” Homura falsely insists.

Kyouko looks unimpressed. But then she comes up with a plan, “Oh, really? I guess you won't mind if I hit on you too, then.”

“Please do not. Besides, I thought you liked Sayaka.”

“I do!” Kyouko insists “But if things fall out with her, I'll need someone else to flirt with.”

“But you don't like me that much.” Homura states.

Kyouko is caught off guard but still tries to keep up her plan, “Wh— Of course I do! L-Look, I—!”

Homura just straight up calls it, “You're bluffing.”

Kyouko is stopped so cold in her tracks that she stops playing the game for a minute to process what just happened. _“H...How!? How is she so good at this!? She just keeps calling all of my bluffs! Well, fine, then I just have to be offensive again!” _She then picks back up and confidently asks, “Well, I'll admit you're right. But what about Madoka?”

Kyouko smirks. Homura tries to hold back the blush that naturally appears whenever she thinks too hard about that girl, but it's not going well. She tries to deny at least that to save face, “N-No. She's just a friend.”

“Who you post about constantly?”

“My only friend.”

“Mhm.” Kyouko hums sarcastically. “Awfully intimate for 'just friends'. You two already slept together. She told us about the cafe you two keep going to, her falling asleep in your lap. And hey, I see the way you look at her. You seriously gonna deny that?”

Homura can tell by now that nothing she can say will change her mind, or get her off of her back, so she just relents to this as well, “Fine. It's pointless to deny it to someone like you anyways. Just don't tell anybody.”

Kyouko pats her on the back, “Hey, if there's one thing I won't do, it's out someone. Come on, I'm not _that_ much of an idiot. Besides, I feel like Hitomi would start giving you lip if she knew. Well, both of us, really. So don't worry. But are you really gonna just keep it a secret? She's gonna run off with someone else if you don't.”

Homura groans, and they both pause the game for a bit, “I know. I know, but... Really, I don't deserve someone like her.”

“_What?_” Kyouko asks, flabbergasted at the mere idea of that being true.

“She's too good for me.” Homura explains “Someone like her deserves to have someone who isn't a complete monster. I may look pretty, but I always end up hurting people. She's an angel, I'm a devil. We're just not meant to be.”

Kyouko is still with that look about her, as if she can't believe what she's hearing. She eventually speaks up, “Okay, this is getting a bit heavy. I mean, I'm glad you're finally being open, but...”

“You're right.” Homura suddenly admits “I shouldn't have said that, sorry. Let's just keep—”

Kyouko interrupts, “No, no, this is good. It's all good. I mean, ignoring the 'angel and devil' part, I didn't expect you to be like _this_. I was expecting some shy girl who acts cool because she has social anxiety, but you're like _depressed._”

Homura's actually a little shocked. The Kyouko she knew was never this empathetic or insightful. Perhaps a side effect of changing her background? Did giving her a stable family and friends with a place to live without worrying about food actually turn Kyouko into a good person? She sees it as a stretch, but possible. But at the same time, she's slightly uncomfortable with that assertion due to its implications for her. Or everyone, really. Come to think of it, “depressed” is a pretty poignant way to describe it.

Kyouko interrupts her thoughts, “Hey. I know you probably need a therapist or something for this, and I'm not one, but...” Slowly, she opens up her arms and gives Homura the most awkward and stifled friend hug she possibly could have, making them both mildly embarrassed and uncomfortable in the process. Coupled with the fact that they both just came out to each other, and that she holds it for just a bit too long, they can't help but fall silent.

For Kyouko, it's because she can't believe she just did that. For Homura it's because she's internally monologuing again, _“You know, that actually makes sense. I suppose this version of her is just the one that was never 'tainted' by the dark path of a magical girl. Not wrecked with tragedy, void of any reason to be as cold and bitter. I wonder if she would prefer to stay this way or go back. I wonder if this is really her, or just my fucked up idealized version of her. But... If this is how she's happiest, I suppose that's fine. And then...”_ She speaks up, “Kyouko...”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you don't get rejected.” she says with a mild smirk.

“Hmph. You too.” Kyouko smiles back. “Let's help each other out, then. I'll keep an eye on your girl, tell you if anything happens.”

“I'll do the same.” Homura says. She then glances behind Kyouko, spotting a few of the clara dolls with mischievous grins on their faces. At first she smirks at them, but then frowns and gives them a look for a second before going back to neutral at Kyouko, “And I'm sure she'll accept you if things go right.”

Kyouko nods, “Well, that settles it! I guess we're each others' wingmen now?”

“Wingmen?”

“Yeah! Like, a wingman helps his friend get a girlfriend by promoting him. And like, I guess we're doing something like that, now?”

“Hmm. I guess so.”

Kyouko gets a little pumped up by the idea, “Alright, alright! Yeah, this is gonna work!” She then remembers something, “Oh, speaking of therapists and all of that, did you hear about what Madoka's mom did to the counselor?”

“What?” Homura looks genuinely surprised. It seems the familiars have a little bit of explaining to do.

Kyouko tells her, “Yeah, she came by the school the other day, went to counselor's office, and decked him right in the face! Started yelling and shit, got him fired for something or another. That's what I heard, anyways.”

Homura looks absolutely floored by this. Well, she really shouldn't be, knowing Junko, but it's still pretty amazing for anyone to just openly attack someone else. She starts wondering what on earth could have provoked that, going from “He must have said something bad” to “He must have insulted her” and finally “I bet he's a total creep” among other such explanations. She'll have to ask Madoka.

But now that all of the awkward and heavy shit is over for tonight, they just go back to playing their game with a renewed vigor, and Kyouko end up staying an hour past when she said she'd be leaving. Not that Homura minds at this point. She's still pretty bummed out that Madoka isn't there, but settles with just texting her after the night is mostly over, and goes to bed relatively content for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pray to the gods that I did not accidentally let yet another continuity error slip by in this chapter. Y'all know how many times that's happened already.


	18. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka stays up a bit late, and comes to an epiphany.

[Homura]  
“Are you getting ready for bed?”  
[00:34]

[Madoka]  
“yes”  
[00:35]

Madoka is lying under the covers in her pajamas, the only thing alight in her room being the screen of her phone as she texts Homura. All she does is lie there, waiting for a response. It's been like this for a few hours.

[Homura]  
“Are you okay?”  
[00:40]

[Madoka]  
“yes. why?”  
[00:41]

[Homura]  
“You have been acting different, lately. If something is wrong, you can tell me.”  
[00:41]

She had been hoping she wouldn't notice. Perhaps the awkward distance she put between herself and her friends over the past few days was too much of a tell. Maybe it was going to the counselor, and then her mother getting him fired for what he said. Maybe it was the constant staring. Maybe it was everything together. She isn't sure what exactly was the tipping point, but surely Homura would have been the first to notice. She always is.

Although, it's difficult for her to keep the whole homosexuality thing a secret as she'd like to when she's always stuck uncontrollably gawking at her friends' “assets” whenever they're around. They'd find out eventually. And what happens then? She knows by now that it's fine to be that way, but not everyone is as understanding as her mother. She's scared of Hitomi's reaction in particular; losing an old friend just a month after seeing her after years apart would be too much, especially for something as impossible to change as this.

And shit, what would Homura think? That's the scariest question to her of them all. Even if everyone else shunned her, she could still be content if at least Homura stayed. Why? Is it just because she's attracted to her? She's attracted to all of her friends, if she's being honest with herself. But this is different. She could say, “I love you.”: the same thing she says to her mother and father on occasion, but it wouldn't be the same kind. Her mother had once told her about these types of things. That the love she had for her was different from the love she had for her husband — Madoka's dad. She hadn't actually thought much about it at the time. Maybe she was just too young, or unconcerned. Maybe it was not realizing that she isn't like the other girls in that way.

A wave of guilt and doubt overcomes her, if it hadn't already. She throws an arm over her eyes, feeling as if she's going to cry in frustration from the sheer amount of introspection... Which has also left her lost in thought for the past ten minutes, and she then realizes that she has been completely silent. It feels like she just got punched in the stomach, which turns out to be...oddly familiar. In an effort to not lose the conversation and in the hopes that Homura hasn't fallen asleep waiting, she tries her best to type out some sort of excuse.

[Madoka]  
“i love you”  
[00:50]

Well, she had _intended _to make up an excuse, but that ended up coming out instead. She freezes up when she realizes what she just sent. And she thinks, _“I guess I knew what it was, after all.”_

[Homura]  
“I love you too.”  
[00:51]

“_I just had to say it to myself.”_ she finishes upon reading the reply. And those feelings keep creeping back, over and over, _“It's not the same. It's not the same way. When I say it and when she does, it's not the same.”_ She turns the screen off and sets the phone aside, curling up in her covers as if they're a cocoon.

“_Why am I like this? Why do I have to doubt everything? I should be happy to have so many people who care about me, but why do I feel so bad all of the time? Why can't I just SAY IT!?”_ But she did. She had said it so many times over. And every time felt different; worse, about herself. A churning feeling in her gut. That outburst about the guy that wanted to confess to Homura. The constant clinging to her even when she thought it was a bother. The staring, the fantasies, the dreams... Why did she think it was okay to fall asleep in the lap of someone she was barely friends with? Her blush deepens, madly, until she can't bear to show her face to the empty room in front of her, and covers it with both hands.

Then, a ding. Her phone's screen turns on. A message.

[Homura]  
“I don't know what you're going through, but I'll be here no matter when you need me. Remember that you are you. And you are perfect just the way you are.”  
[1:00]

She doesn't know why, but reading that makes her eyes start to well up. That, right there, is such a “Homura” thing to say that she can't help but smile knowing that despite anything that happens, Homura will also still be Homura. And then...something hits her. A sense of nostalgia unfamiliar to her. As if she's heard that a hundred and one times before. Maybe two. But more solidly than that...she's heard that before. Maybe she had said it in the past? She starts to go back through their texts together to find out, coming upon the same phrase again about two weeks prior. But more interesting than that...

“Wait, what?” she says to herself, sitting up suddenly. She starts rapidly scrolling and reading through everything Homura has said, and they all seem vaguely familiar in some way. It's just a hunch, but she turns the lights on and hurriedly sits at her desk, pulling open a drawer where she had been keeping all of those letters that were anonymously written to her over the past month.

She starts reading them again, one by one, finding that they all share a similar style of phrasing. Always brief, typically one or two sentences. Always either ordinary rhetorical questions or statements of reassurance. As if the sender either had self esteem issues or knew that she had them. But she never gave off the aura of lacking self esteem, even if she openly admitted to a few of her friends that it was true. But none of them wrote like this, so plainly and without flair. Sayaka always tries to sound non-serious, and so does Kyouko. Hitomi often uses a large vocabulary to show off, and doesn't know about Madoka's issues too well. Kyousuke is irrelevant. Mami and the rest don't know her well enough. The only one she knows who writes like this, speaks like this, has such a... _practical_ style, is...

“Oh my god.” she whispers to herself upon noticing that what Homura had just sent matches up almost word-for-word with one of the letters. And then she remembers that this is also practically the same thing she said when she first they first met. She doesn't know how she didn't see it before, maybe just a reasonable blind spot...

And then, she goes back to another. It reads simply, “I love you.” And another, on the same topic, “I cannot properly express my feelings towards you, no matter how strong they are. I hope this is adequate to get the point across.”

Her entire body starts to heat up. Primarily the stomach area. A warm, fuzzy feeling mixed with an intense pain in her chest. She clutches it tightly and starts to cry, “Oh... Oh my god, Homura... It has to be...” She starts shaking her head, smiling like an idiot and silently berating herself for being so stupid as to have any doubts in the first place. She gathers all of them up in a pile and hugs them, a if she were hugging the girl herself.

Of course, this swarm of butterflies eventually fades a few minutes later when she comes to a sudden realization: How does she confront Homura about this? If the letters are accurate, she herself is probably too insecure to consider making the first move. But if Madoka does it, will she not be too scared of the commitment to respond? She had always thought Homura was this totally cool, perfect example of...something. But to realize that all of these admissions of fault came from her is both too endearing for her to not obsess over AND worrying to the point of coming full circle.

She would ask her mother for help, but she's asleep by now. So instead, she has to rely on...

* * *

“...Eh?” Sayaka grunts as her phone starts vibrating like a magic wand. She picks it up tiredly and asks, “Yes? This is Sayaka.”

“Sayaka?” Madoka asks rhetorically.

“That's my name.”

“Listen, I need to tell you something.”

“Mm. Alright, just...” she horks down a handful of chips “...What is it?”

Interrupting, Kyouko nudges her in the leg, “Oi, don't eat all of them! Wait, who's that?”

Sayaka pushes her back, “It's Madoka.”

“What's up?”

“Well if you'd let me—!”

Madoka, tired of them bickering, yells for the first time in maybe a week, “Sayaka! Listen!”

Sayaka hushes Kyouko and responds, “Ah, yeah, sorry. So what is it?”

“I think...” Madoka starts “No, I'm _positive_ that Homura is the one writing those letters.”

Suddenly, Sayaka goes from being aloof and tired to alert, “W-Wait, what? Really!?” and then she chokes briefly on the chips she was chewing.

“Yes! I was just comparing them to some things she's texted me and...it matches! Like, it's almost exactly the same! And...” she pauses.

“And...?”

“...Kyouko is there, right? Can I talk to her?”

Sayaka raises an eyebrow at this. The two barely ever talk, and about something this important... Well, she hands it over anyways, “Hey, Kyouko, she wants to talk to  _you_ .” That “you” being in the most sassy tone imaginable.

Kyouko doesn't bother rolling her eyes like usual and just takes the phone, “Yo, Madoka, what's up?”

“You heard that, right?”

“Heard what?” she starts nibbling on a chip.

“I think Homura is the one writing those letters to me. No, I _know_ she is. It just makes too much sense!”

“Oh.” Kyouko says, not even vaguely surprised.

“...'Oh'?” Madoka asks incredulously.

“Yeah. 'Oh.'” Kyouko confirms “I mean, I already kind of figured it was her, because...” She looks back at Sayaka, who is listening intently. She hesitates in her words. “Uh, hold on...” She gets up and just walks right out the door, saying she'll be right back. Thankfully, Sayaka doesn't have enough of a clue to eavesdrop.

Once she's clear of earshot, Kyouko continues, “So, I know I told her I wouldn't tell anyone else, but you kind of already figured it out. I was hanging out with her the other day and...she basically came out to me. So yeah, I was guessing it was her.”

“Wow, really?” Madoka asks. “What did she come out _as?_”

“Lesbian.”

For some reason, that makes Madoka feel relieved. Now she knows “there's no way some pickup artist will ever steal her”. “...Whoops.” she says as she realizes that she actually said that aloud.

Kyouko snort-chuckles at that, “Damn, well now I know how  _you_ feel. Gotta say, I never figured you to be the possessive type!”

Madoka wants to get mad. She really,  _really_ wants to get mad at that. But she restrains herself, “...Anyways, I need help. I don't know if I should confront her or not. I know you get along with her better than Sayaka, so what do you think?”

Well, that's a hard one. So hard she actually has to stop and think about it for a moment. She decides to ask first, “Well...how about you? What do you think of _her?_”

Madoka gets caught off-guard, as proven by her silence. On one hand, she's about to come out to someone, which she was just obsessing over the fear of. On the other, Kyouko seems to have taken Homura's whole thing pretty well, so maybe it's safe. On that note, she asks, “You said she came out to you, right? What do _you_ think _that_?”

Kyouko feels like this is a trap, and thus hesitates to answer. But then she realizes that they're literally just playing catch with each other. So she says honestly, “Well of course I just accepted it. I mean, why not? Love is love.”

Madoka doesn't know how to respond at first. But then she starts giggling, “Wow... Love is love. And Homura is Homura...and I'm me.” she starts giggling harder at the revelation of how ridiculous this game of cat and mouse is. So she finally answers, “I... I think I'm in love with her. And I think I have been for a while and just didn't realize it until someone told me I could be like that. So... I mean, I guess I could like just about anybody, but I like _her_ right now.”

Kyouko leans against the wall and smiles contently, “Yeah, that's nice. I feel the same, ya know. I got a girl I like, too. You'll never—”

“Is it Sayaka?”

“Son of a...!” Kyouko nearly yells, but holds back, “...Is it that obvious?”

“I...well, I was just guessing. You two are really close, and since you just said that you liked a girl...”

Kyouko sighs, “Right, I guess I just walked into that one, huh? Well, listen...”

But Madoka interrupts again, “Wait... We're _all_ gay?”

“...I guess so.” Kyouko agrees after a moment of thought. She chuckles, “Well isn't that neat? Screw opposites; _lesbians_ attract!”

They both start giggling uncontrollably about how stupid that joke was before Kyouko resumes her previous thought, “Anyways, listen... I think you should tell her. Or, well, I guess it depends on what she wants. Tell you what, I'll talk to her tomorrow and figure out what's happening. Don't want her to get cold feet, after all. But you might have to take the initiative. God knows she's too stubborn. Had to jump through hoops just to make her admit it to me. AFTER I did! _After_! I mean jeez.”

“Yeah...” Madoka agrees quietly “She can be like that. But...I still want to do this. I know that if I don't, she might just lose interest and move on. And...”  
  
Kyouko wants to tell her, _“I doubt that'll ever happen.”_ but doesn't want to encourage any more lethargy or games of “will-they-won't-they?” that'll go on for years. Not enough time for that. So instead, she stays quiet.

“...So you'll talk to her?”

“Right.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Thanks, Kyouko. I know we don't talk much, but you're really a good person, aren't you?”

Kyouko just about loses her composure, getting so embarrassed about that. She mutters, “Yeah, yeah... I can see why she would like you.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Kyouko speaks up “Anyways, get some rest. Me and Sayaka are gonna be up for a little while, but you need rest for what's comin' up.”

“Okay. Tell her I said goodnight.”

“Yes ma'am.” Kyouko salutes and says sarcastically, even though nobody can see her. She hangs up, goes back in, and gets back to their usual activities. When Sayaka prompts her with what that was about, Kyouko just responds, “You'll see.”

Madoka, meanwhile, goes to bed anxious-yet-happy and can barely sleep at all. Much alike, Homura just plain doesn't sleep. Not that it would affect her too badly given the whole deific status, but it would still be preferable to get some amount of rest. Not that she would let herself.

And the sun would soon dawn, and open the gates to a tense day.


	19. Matchmaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyouko has a little talk with Homura.

The day after Madoka's new revelation is...tense. Tense for Homura because she doesn't know what's wrong with Madoka. Madoka because she can't figure out how to proceed. Kyouko because she has to play cupid for those two. Sayaka because she doesn't know what the fuck is going on except that her friends are also tense. Same with Hitomi and whatever the guy's name is. Their aura emanates throughout the classroom and makes everyone else subconsciously uncomfortable except for the most oblivious of students.

Arriving at school, Madoka retrieves her usual love letter, now with a knowing wink at Kyouko as she smiles and reads it to herself, then keeps it from the others. Most of the pre-class period is spent in total silence as everyone contemplates what to do. Mostly Madoka and Kyouko: the former spending her time staring at Homura with an unusually satisfied smile, and the latter not napping for once and instead drawing up a list of ways she could talk Homura into making the first move. The other two, meanwhile, are just absentmindedly chatting about how strangely the first two are acting, not even caring that they're within earshot and unaware that their whispering is more like an indoor voice. Not that Madoka cares at all.

And poor Homura, with the eyes staring into the back of her head, can't focus at all on the reports of how many incubators were slain last night coming from the clara dolls through her ear cuff. Instead, all she can hear is her own thoughts screaming at her that this is unusual, slightly creepy, and therefore not good and something must be going on. Not that her minions would deign to tell her something actually important like that, the useless little balls of—

“Everyone!” Saotome suddenly slams the door shut behind her as she enters, preparing to launch into another tirade, and interrupting everyone's thought processes for just a moment before they promptly ignore whatever it is she's saying.

Except...she doesn't? Instead of ranting and looking mildly upset, she's just blissfully smiling and asks if everyone had a good weekend. The class is so wholly caught off-guard that nobody responds.

“Well, that won't do at all!” she proclaims. “Love is in the air, this month! It's totally out of season, but I can smell it! It doesn't matter that valentines and white day are over, I'm going to meet someone who will sweep me off my feet, and so will all you girls out there! If I can do it, so can you!”

Homura cannot help but feel as if the entire universe is beginning to conspire against her at this point. And everyone else? They can't believe their ears. Somehow, this encouraging message essentially telling everyone to get hitched is somehow even less appropriate than her usual nonsense. And to just go from that to regular homeroom without any protest...mouths are surely agape all around.

* * *

It isn't until P.E. that Kyouko decides to approach Homura, who's sitting on the sidelines and “covertly” watching everyone else do their thing, against the teacher's wishes. Her opening line is, to nobody's surprise, “What's up?”

“'Up' is relative.”

Kyouko shakes her head sarcastically, “What's _relatively_ up?”

“Not me.”

She isn't sure she gets that one. Either way, she groans and rewords it, “You know what I mean; what's _going on_ with you? How are you?”

Having seemingly finished snarking, she gives an honest response, “Since Saturday? Not much. In fact, I feel like I've been left out of something important.”

Kyouko can probably guess, “...Does it have to do with—?”

“Yes, her.”

“Oh. Well, about that...” Homura _immediately _perks up, and Kyouko notices. And decides to get back at her, “Oh, now you're interested. _I see how it is_.”

Homura scoffs, “Just tell me already, damn!”

Kyouko grins, “Oh, getting stern, are we? Well luckily for you, I know a lot.”

Homura glares at her.

Kyouko hurries and almost loses her composure, “Ah, er... Well, you know how you came out to me the other day?”

“Yes.”

“Well... Madoka kind of figured out that you're the one sending her those letters she keeps getting.”

“Wh...” Homura looks genuinely shocked “What!? No, I'm not...”

“Homura, you wrote them the _exact_ same way you text. She told me how she found out last night.”

“But...” Homura looks down in absolute defeat, resting her face in her palms and mumbling about something. Then, she remembers, “Wait, you didn't tell her that I'm...!?”

Kyouko interrupts her as she trails off, almost yelling, “Well when you crush on another girl it's kind of fuckin' obvious! I mean, even if I didn't outright say it, she'd still think you're at least bi! And she'd still know that you  _like her_ !”

Homura tries to settle her down, “Quiet, quiet! The entire school's going to hear you!”

They both sigh at each other, with Kyouko saying, “Nobody's gonna hear us during P.E., ya idiot.”

“Whatever.”

This isn't going nearly well as Kyouko intended. After a minute of silence, she speaks up again, “Oi, you need to tell her.”

“Why?”

“You can't just stay hidden forever. I mean, I'm pretty sure she likes you back. If you don't do it, she will. And if you ask me, that's just kind of pitiful. Besides, you went through the trouble of doing the old fashioned letters, I just thought you might have some special way you want to go about it.”

“And?”

Kyouko starts to get annoyed, “ _And _ it'll look pathetic for both you and me if you don't.”

“How will it be pathetic for _you_?” Homura rightly asks.

“Because I _told her_ I would tell YOU. To. Or something, I can't remember what I said exactly. You know what I mean.”

Homura grumbles, “This...isn't how I wanted this to go.”

“And how _did_ you want it to go?”

Homura looks down at the ground, somewhat murmuring, “I wanted to go slow. I wanted to start sending her those letters, every day. Not miss a single one. I wanted us to be just friends for a while. To just give out little hints every now and then, and enjoy the simple times. I wanted to wait until next valentine's day to invite her to the rooftop and confess there. And...I never really cared how that went. I just want her to be happy in the end.”

Kyouko could barely hear her, but that explanation still disarms her completely. It takes a moment for her to form a response, “...Wow. That... I don't know...”

Homura looks up at her with stern expectance.

Eventually, Kyouko figures out a clever response, “...And what if she'll be happy with  _you_ ?”

That stern look quickly warps into surprise and something a bit more difficult to both see and describe, as she whips her head away to hide it.

“I mean...” Kyouko continues “...what if you're her 'one'? What if you're the person who'll make her happy like that?”

Homura continues to look away for at least several more seconds before she argues, “No... No, I'll just end up hurting her.”

Kyouko scoffs, “Oh, come on. Who  _doesn't_ hurt each other?”

Homura looks at her like she's crazy.

“No, really! Think about it! Even the best couple in the damn world will still have an argument every blue moon. I mean, you don't just stop being friends with someone because you accidentally insulted their parents, do you?”

Homura looks like she's genuinely pondering that.

Kyouko is disgusted by that idea, “No! No, you make up and just keep going. Look at me and Sayaka. How often do we fight?”

“134.”

“What?”

“You have had 134 arguments since Madoka transferred in. That I know of.”

Kyouko looks baffled, “You were...?” then shakes her head “A-Anyways! My point is that getting hurt is going to happen eventually. That doesn't mean it's not meant to be, it's just natural to disagree on things. And hey, weren't you the one who wanted my help? I'm telling you right now that it's going to work, you just need to  _try!_ Were you really going to just give up like that after we made that agreement?”

After thinking that tidal wave of information over, Homura just silently sighs, and in a rare bout of weakness, just curls up into fetal position all pitiful-like. Kyouko pats her on the back and says, “Is your self esteem  _that_ low? You need a damn therapist. That's our next goal.”

“No therapist can help me.” Homura catastrophizes, muffled by her legs.

Now Kyouko just looks disappointed, “Wow, really? That was almost edgier than your little cake comment. Remember that?” she grins at the lack of a response and playfully pinches her on the arm. “Remember? Remember?”

Homura swats her hand away, “Enough! Jeez, I'll do it! Just quit...that!”

Kyouko chuckles victoriously, “Alright! When are you gonna—?”

“Tomorrow.” Homura states, standing up and stretching a little.

“Grea— Wait, what? Tomorrow!?” Kyouko suddenly stands up with her.

“Yes.”

Kyouko's mouth hangs ajar, “Ah... Well, I guess I'll tell her I talked to you, then.”

Homura tells her to keep it a secret as she walks off, approaching the track where everyone else is. Kyouko is left caught off-guard by the sudden lack of time they have to react. Tomorrow? Madoka will only have a single night to figure out exactly what she wants to say. But if it's her, she's probably  _been_ thinking about it. It's likely to be awkward as hell now, but at least it will be quick. She just hopes it doesn't backfire, or her chances of getting Homura's help to “seduce” Sayaka will be slim to none. Not that that's the only reason she's doing this, but it's a nice incentive. She thinks. Regardless, she runs off to tell the others.

* * *

Of course, that doesn't happen until the end of the day, when they're all about to head off to their usual restaurant. Madoka, still acting a bit strangely to the others, goes home by herself again. At that point, Kyouko runs off to catch up with her and talk in...relative privacy.

“Oh, Kyouko!” she calls to her, eyes wandering downwards, when she notices the footsteps and turns around. “Did you...?”

“Yup.” Kyouko proudly states, ignoring the look.

“What happened?”

“Ah, well, I can't say. Told me to keep what she was gonna do a secret. But trust me, I packed the sense somewhere in there, even if I had to beat it in a little.”

Madoka giggles, “That's good! I know she can be a bit...stubborn, at times, but I think she always ends up doing the right things. So, can you at least tell me if I should—?”

Kyouko interrupts bluntly, “Don't. I mean, she'll do it first. I can't tell you when or how, but...”

“Oh.” Madoka looks vaguely surprised, then turns back around and continues walking home.

“But like, watch out for her.”

“Watch out?” Madoka raises an eyebrow, half like she's upset at the implication and half out of confusion.

Kyouko nearly trips over her words trying to explain, “Not watch out like she's dangerous, but watch out like she shouldn't be left alone for too long. If you know what I mean.”

Madoka goes back to a relieved smile, “Oh, I know. But thanks. And...you can go catch up to the others if you want. I'm just going straight home.”

Kyouko smirks, “Don't you mean...”

Noticing what she's about to do, Madoka reaches out, “Kyouko, no—”

“Straight _homo?_” she finger-guns.

Madoka just turns around and walks away, “...I'm going  **home.** ”

Kyouko only laughs at her own joke, “Heh... Aha... Okay. Seeya tomorrow.” she turns around, mourning her failed landing, and takes a walk of shame down the road. She doesn't even meet up with the others. She just goes home as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was debating between "straight homo" and "gay home".
> 
> The former made more grammatical sense.


	20. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it.

Today is the day. Or, one of them, anyways. For once, Homura had made sure to actually get some sleep so that she could look her best. Well, relatively speaking. Even put on a little bit of makeup to hide those bags under her eyes. It didn't help that much. Because even if things go bad, she at least wants to look good; and she fully expects the worst. A long shower, magically removing every inch of hair from her body aside from the head, a little bit of perfume, freshly clipped and polished nails, and the rest. She skips the lipstick. It all looks very nice, and makes the clara dolls playfully jealous.

But regardless of how much she sparkles, she just ends up wondering what the point of all of it even is, in the end. Is this all just manipulative? Is she hoping that a little bit of vanity will help her odds? How selfish. How...

Devilish.

She grins at herself, gussies up her uniform, and gets “into character” before leaving in an overly dramatic manner.

She had thought up at least a thousand ways to let out her feelings at this point. None of them were even remotely appropriate for this point in time. Too early, not the right context, sound like complete insanity, etc. So she comes to a predicament where she can't really be totally honest, but just give a lot of vague platitudes. Or, she calls them platitudes, not that anyone could tell if they are or not. She ends up just thinking about what Madoka is most likely to ask. Why does she like her? She can't just list every little thing that could possibly describe her and give a 50-page backstory like an overzealous newcomer to the game master of a longform D&D campaign. Something simple will do. Try not to go overboard and come off as creepy. When did she start liking her? Well, she can't exactly tell how much time has passed since the first time they met, but it doesn't even really matter. “Since I first saw you?” Well, it's true enough. Kind of cheesy, though.

This is difficult. The sheer amount of possible questions is too overwhelming to even imagine. How the hell did Madoka endure the whole omniscience thing? Only more proof that this was the right decision. But what is she supposed to do about this? Just let the answers come naturally?

Emotions are hard. Perhaps now more than ever, actually having to confront a portion of them. Was this approach even the right choice? Should she do it all over again and take things slower, this time? Not at all? Just disappear? Be more prominent? Again, all of the possibilities are as difficult to register as the possible iterations in each timeline way back when. But now... Now she's just too tired to go through something like that again. No, no more trying again. It's over. That was the whole point of this, anything else would just be a mockery of everything they had sacrificed together.

She had left when the sun was still rising. She arrives at the same time that the doors are first unlocked, before anybody else. A little after. Nobody is around, aside from a few teachers having their morning coffee and preparing for homeroom. More would come soon. She slowly dances up the steps and into the entrance, goes straight for Madoka's shoe locker and slips in the letter she had written for that day. Nothing fancy. But special. So special. A few words. A request, and nothing more; unsigned. But she knows who it is already. No doubt she would be anticipating this.

She strides through the halls, each step as if she's about to trip and fall over, but never so. And then comes upon the locked door to the classroom. As usual, she just magically unlocks it and saunters on over to her seat...

Waiting.

* * *

This time, instead of walking to school alone like she has the past few days, Madoka happily skips along with her friends, now so sure of herself after Kyouko's handiwork that she can't help but put her excitement on full display.

Somehow, the world just seems a bit more colorful. Even though the cherry blossoms bloomed weeks ago, it's as if they might as well still be here along the stone path to school. It's rather scenic already, with the river and all, but it's even better when April comes around. Like a world from some ancient legend, or maybe an anime. Almost cinematic. They really did hire the right person to design this place, whoever it was. She starts to wonder how it'll feel to be walking this path to school — not away from it — with Homura, someday soon. And when next year rolls around, about that time the trees start to bloom...

“Hey, y'alright?” Sayaka nudges her shoulder, derailing her train of thought and killing 40 passengers. It feels eerily familiar, somehow.

Madoka jolts up, looks left, catches the sight of her sideboob, stares a bit too long, and then looks up and asks, “Yeah? Oh, I'm okay. Just thinking about something.”

“About what?”

“Uh...” Madoka trails off intentionally, trying to think of a way to lie without lying. It's extraordinarily hard, especially for her. Is that sort of thing even possible?

Luckily, she doesn't have to think about it for long before Kyouko swoops in to save the day (also intentionally), “Oi, Sayaka! I thought you were gonna share this with me!” She sticks out a box of pocky.

“Ah!” Sayaka gasps, then quickly tells Madoka “Be back in a minute.” She runs off to join her eventually-to-be girlfriend. Alas, she doesn't realize that Kyouko is going to keep her until they get to school, leaving Madoka to peacefully walk just behind the others and fantasize about all sorts of things.

Of course, when they DO get there, she gets immediately ganged up on everyone wondering what today's letter is.

“_Meet me on the rooftop after school ends. Come alone._”

Hitomi is the first to gasp in astonishment, “Madoka is getting confessed to!? Only a month after transferring in!? Are...” She backs up, then suddenly starts running down the hall, dramatically swinging from side to side and knocking someone over in the process while yelling, “ARE YOU MORE CHARMING THAN MEEEE!?”

At this point, nobody is even vaguely surprised by this. Even Kyosuke just sighs and walks after her at a moderate pace. The others just stare in mild amusement and then go back to what they were doing.

Sayaka is the next to speak, “So...you really think it's her, huh?”

Madoka nods, “I think so.”

“So what do you think she wants?”

“I...” Madoka almost tells her, but holds back. “...I don't know. Guess I'll find out.”

“Wow...” she says, then falls silent for a moment. “...You know, this reminds of those cheesy old romance manga confessions where—”

Kyouko interrupts her line of thought yet again, “Oi, Sayaka! You comin' with me or not?” She's about to leave for class.

Sayaka shoots back, “Eh!? Come on, this is really important! We're finally gonna figure out the culprit! Don't you want to see it go down?”

Kyouko groans. Guesses she'll have to do this the blunt way. She prefers sharp and/or pointy, but this will have to do. She re-approaches the two and tells Sayaka, “Hey, this is just between them. Whatever it is, she'll tell us if we should know. So come on, let's go.”

Sayaka looks back with an expression of hesitant defeat, then at Kyouko again. She sighs, “Alright. Yeah, I know. Geez, what's with you and that soft spot?”

The two start to walk off together, arguing mildly and teasing each other with swats and bumps, and eventually trying to headlock each other while giggling like madwomen. This leaving Madoka alone to read and re-read the letter several times with the biggest, dumbest smile on her face.

“_Oh my god.”_ she thinks to herself _“It's happening. It's really happening. Today! **Today! **I wish I used that special perfume...” _She continues to go on and on about all of her wild fantasies and expectations for what's about to happen, much in the same way Homura had tried to do before her. Though, more on the side of “What do I do?” rather than “How do I answer?”. Not many questions running through that head, just mind-numbing fluff and ideas for future dates stretching far beyond the limits of reality to coincide with her imagination. It gets to the point where she literally can't focus in class and just spends the entire time staring at Homura in anticipation. Lunch, similarly, just has her absentmindedly ignoring the others and daydreaming while swinging her legs back and forth like a excited little kid. They honestly start to worry about her.

And after a long, far too long day of waiting, school finally ends. She sits and waits in class, watching as Homura casually walks out and clearly heads towards the stairwell. Her friends also stay behind as the room starts to empty out.

“Well, it's time.” Sayaka says as she waves off to the other students. “Want us to stay?”

Madoka shakes her head, “No, I can handle this. Besides, she said to come alone, right? I'll tell you what happens later.”

Kyouko butts in towards Sayaka to agree, “Hey. Don't worry about it, this can't go anything but well. Besides that, don't we have something to do?”

“Eh?”

Kyouko looks genuinely offended, “The  _arcade, _ you idiot! You said we'd try out that new cabinet they got!”

“Oh, right.” she replies as if it's no big deal.

Kyouko rolls her eyes, “Come on, let's go! We're gonna get there by the time they close, at this rate!” She tugs on Sayaka's sleeve and starts trying to drag her along.

“Alright, alright, I'm coming!” Sayaka whines and follows behind her.

Hitomi, being the last to leave behind them, wishes her good luck before following them. And finally, Madoka is the last person in the class to finally leave, aside from the teacher.

* * *

...And there she is. Madoka peers through the glass of the door between her and the rooftop to spy Homura, standing at and holding onto the fence, staring out at the city's skyline. Wind blowing in her hair. Positively  _sparkling_ in the sunlight. Her heart skips a beat just looking at her. Maybe it's the situation. Maybe she's just way gayer than she first thought.

Either way, she opens the door. Slowly. And just lets it close, to make her presence apparent. Homura doesn't react. She carefully walks towards her and stops a few meters away, clutching her hands at her chest, smiling fondly, eyes half-closed. The wind dies down, as if to let them speak without raising their voices.

And she does so, practically on queue, taking her hands off of the fence and turning to look right at Madoka without the apathetic and stern look she usually has. This time, it's soft and genuinely sensitive. “Madoka...” she nearly whispers.

Just from hearing her name, she smiles.

Homura takes a few steps forward and tries to speak, “I...” But despite how much she practiced for this, the words don't come. Especially not with the look she's being given. “You...” she tries again, but also falls flat.

“_Just say it.”_ her inner voice tells her. _“Just say it already! It's not that hard!”_ it chides.

She takes a deep breath, exhales slowly, eyes narrowing as if she's in pain, starting to blush so badly that she can feel the heat at her cheeks. “I... I'm the one who was sending you those.”

Madoka wants to reply. Say, “I know.” or maybe giggle a little. Her smile starts to widen uncontrollably, but she manages to hold back and just let her speak.

“And...” she tries her best to continue “...I like you a lot.” she forces out, trying to make it sound less intense than it actually is.

Madoka sighs, still smiling, and takes another couple of steps forward.

“I just...” Homura starts to choke on her own words. She can barely even speak.

Madoka continues onward until she's standing right in front of her, looking right into her eyes. And in the midst of the ensuing silence, she says, “It's okay. If you can't say it, then...” and she starts to close the remaining distance between them.

Homura's heart nearly stops when Madoka gently clasps their hands together and presses herself against her. At first gently, and then a bit more forcefully, until their foreheads meet and she closes her eyes.

Poor Homura, barely being able to string a coherent sentence together right now, starts to hyperventilate at the mere thought of what's happening. She can feel her. Her heart, both of theirs, now racing in tandem, their faces burning. She whispers, as if she has to ask permission, “Madoka... C-can...?”

Wordlessly, Madoka squeezes her hands tightly in affirmation. Homura closes her eyes as well, and they slowly come closer. A million things are going through their heads, one of the biggest for Madoka being that Homura's entire being smells like a field of flowers. Homura's biggest being much the same, but more strawberries than flowers. It must be that damn shampoo, the little seductress.

And yet, as close as they get, their lips never quite meet. Each time they might, one pulls away at the last moment from sheer anxiety. To diffuse some tension, they rub their cheeks together. Homura was crying. Just a little; Madoka can feel the faint wetness on her own cheek. Then they try again, coming a little closer, but then stopping and giggling awkwardly, trying and failing to hold back their stupidly wide grins. And again, repeating the process until Madoka finally asks, “...Too early?”

Homura's smile fades ever so slightly just long enough to be noticeable, but she pushes on, “No, just...”

“Is it your first time, too?”

That question just about pierces her. No. The answer is no. But all the other times she had her “first” kiss, including the real first, was always with the same person. It might as well be.

“Yeah...” she answers after a moment of hesitation.

And they try again. Madoka keeps her eyes gently shut and waits. Homura first purses her lips, then becomes self-conscious of how stupid that probably looks. Instead, she just barely opens them, takes another deep breath to swallow her fears with, and...

Finally, it happens. Their lips meet, pressing against each other as gently as two marshmallows rubbing together. But more wet. Less dry. Madoka thought she was ready, but the sheer rush of adrenaline that courses through her body and sends shivers up her spine are so powerful that she loses her poise and gasps. They both squeeze each others' hands and start to shudder, blushing madly and now unable to properly contain the height of their shared enthusiasm.

For Madoka, it's more of an uncontrollable desire and elation. For Homura, it's more like relief and the purest, most unbridled, burning love she can imagine. At first, their kiss was just the kind a shy couple would share. A little smooch on the lips. But soon enough, she releases her grip on Madoka's hand and instead wraps them around her waist while pushing in and enveloping herself fully in the sensation of their total affection. Surely, Madoka wasn't expecting full tongue on her first time, but it isn't like she didn't want it.

Quite the opposite. If her mouth weren't full of Homura, she'd be nearly dislocating her jaw trying to smile. Instead, she's nearly dislocating her jaw trying to wrestle her tongue. She wants to pull back to breathe, but also just doesn't want it to end. She quickly learns how to breathe through her nose as it goes on and on, for almost a full minute.

“_It tastes like candy.”_ they both simultaneously and repeatedly tell themselves. Whether that's just a hallucination born from the sheer amount of love, or actual reality, they will never know.

But what Homura DOES know is that even after the several times she managed to do this back then, this time was different. This was more...“real”, so to speak. More difficult. More special than it ever had been. Out of all her first times, she could easily call this one the “best”.

She isn't going away this time. It's not temporary this time. She starts to feel herself cracking again. Soon enough, she gets her fill of the moment, and they part lips to breathe. A trail follows and quickly falls. And they open their eyes, and stare at each other. And Homura starts to quiver. And her eyes grow wet. She's smiling in a way that Madoka's never quite seen before, but going back and forth between unfathomable happiness and some deep sorrow that she doesn't recognize.

And then Homura  _breaks._

Grasping onto and embracing Madoka as tightly as she can without hurting her, she gasps and tries to pull her in even more, burying her face into Madoka's shoulder and just  _violently_ sobbing, almost losing the strength to even continue standing.

Madoka expected her to be emotional, but she didn't expect  _this._ Maybe she'd cry happy tears a bit, maybe she'd finally be totally open about how she feels. But she never imagined that Homura would just start wailing incoherently. And slowly, she begins to realize this is nothing like how either of them idealized this meeting going.

But alas, it doesn't matter anymore. Madoka returns the embrace with her own, holding Homura up until she can't anymore, and they both collapse onto the ground with each other in hand.

Finally, through the choking and tears, Homura manages to speak, “Madoka, I... I love you! I love you so much! More than anything else in the world! I can't... I can't even tell you how much, because there aren't any words to describe it! I know this is going to sound weird and crazy; I know we've only known each other for a month. To you, I must just be a crush. Maybe you'll get bored of me one day; I don't know. But to me, you're so much more than that. More than a friend, or a best friend, or even a girlfriend or lover. For me, everything else could disappear, but as long as I have you, I wouldn't care at all! I know... I know I'm probably just talking to myself. I know you probably don't get what I'm saying. I don't deserve what you've given me, and I don't know why you care so much, but I know that...” she starts to shake more, and almost can't speak “...I know that if I can just stay like this for a little bit longer, I'll never need to ask you for anything else. So please... Stay. Let me...” she starts trail off as the sobbing comes again. “I can't...!” she holds on tighter.

At first, it's jarring. But then something odd happens. From somewhere deep within her, Madoka feels a deep-seated power awaken from within her and send a surge of... _something_ through her mind. She isn't sure what it is, or how it came to be. But as her eyes erupt for just a slight moment with every glistening star in the universe, she doesn't just feel but _ understands_ . She isn't sure where it came from or why. But it doesn't really matter how or why. Just that it  _is_ .

As her voice clears up again, Homura asks, “...I sound crazy, don't I? It's weird. I'm sorry. I'm awful. It's okay if you don't want to do this anymore. I shouldn't—”

“No.” Madoka says. Homura freezes completely. That voice isn't the voice she's used to by now. She looks up, and back into Madoka's eyes. She's smiling fondly. Not overjoyed, but contently. And though that golden color is gone, her eyes still sparkle with the remnants of that brief moment.

“It's okay.” Madoka assures her, gently caressing her cheek and holding her like a mother would. “I understand. You don't need to say anything else. I love you too.” A second passes as she gazes upon Homura's face. The makeup she so carefully put on is ruined. Mascara and eyeliner smeared and running, everything else smudged and disjointed. And yet, Madoka adds with a small chuckle, “I thought you were beautiful before. But...now you're _gorgeous_.”

She is utterly immaculate. The only thing Homura can feel at that moment is a profound sense of contentness from basking in the radiance of those few words. She doesn't know why, nor does she have the strength to care anymore. Here she lies, completely disarmed and unable to anything but mutter “I love you.” over and over.

And they stay like that for a long while, only noticing how long it's been when the sky begins to redden. By then, Homura has mostly recovered from the emotional breakdown and decides to try standing on her own. Though, they're both still holding each other.

“Feel better?” Madoka asks, giving her the biggest bedroom eyes.

“Yeah.” Homura says, looking a bit away out of embarrassment. This certainly isn't how she imagined this going, but she can't take it back now.

“Need me to walk you home?”

“No, I'll be fine.” Homura instinctively replies.

Madoka looks upset for a moment, but then smiles again and rewords it, “Do you  _want_ me to walk you home?”

Homura gives her a puzzled look for a moment, but then returns the smile, “That's  _my_ line. But...” she blushes “...yeah. If you want.”

Madoka giggles, “Okay, okay. I'll let  _you _ escort  _me._ How's that?”

Homura nods, and the two start to head out of the school whose doors are about to be locked. As they head down the quiet, barren roads of the afternoon when everyone is home except for those overtimers, they get to small-talking and leaning all over each other.

“Homura...” Madoka asks “...can you come over tomorrow? I want to introduce you.”

“Don't they already know me?” Homura chuckles.

Madoka does as well, “Introduce you  _as my girlfriend_ . I mean, mom probably already knows, but dad...”

Homura sighs calmly, “Alright. Say, isn't tomorrow the boys' festival?”

“Yeah. Dad started decorating for it this morning.”

“Interesting time to come out, like that.” 

Madoka giggles again, “Yeah... So, what about the others?”

Homura thinks for a moment, “Kyouko already knows, so that just leaves Sayaka, Hitomi, and the guy. But I don't think it's any of their business.”

“Maybe...” Madoka wonders “...I'm a bit scared to tell them.”

Homura glances at her.

“...Well, I just don't know how they're going to react. I don't think Sayaka would be too mean about it, but I don't know how Hitomi would react.”

“Well I guess they'll just have to find out on their own, won't they?”

“I guess.” Madoka relents. A silence ensues, but Homura comes in an plants a quick kiss on her cheek to break it. Madoka blushes and laughs.

“Don't worry about it. If they find out, I'll make sure they don't bother you about it. Nobody will.” Homura reassures her.

“Thanks.” Madoka says. After a moment, she grabs onto Homura's arm and tells her, a bit quietly, “You know, I thought you were a bit scary at first, but now I realize that you really are one of the kindest people I've ever met. So...I guess what I'm saying is that I'll do the same. If anyone ever calls you weird or something like that, I...won't let them hear the end of it!” She pumps her free arm confidently, which makes Homura giggle.

“I guess we're both a little strange, aren't we?” she comments. They both laugh at that.

“I guess so.”

“You know...” Homura looks down, but not sadly “...you said I was kind. But that's one of the reasons I love _you_ so much. I can't think of anyone more perfect and good than you.”

Madoka laughs again, this time out of embarrassment and so hard that she snorts just like Kyouko usually does. No doubt that's where she picked it up. “Oh, come on!” she says “You're just as good as me.”

For the first time, Homura actually agrees with a smile instead of arguing, “Well, if you say so. But I love you the most.”

“No, I love _you_ the most!” Madoka pokes her cheek teasingly.

“No...” Homura refutes, poking her back.

This goes on and on until they get to Madoka's house. Junko's car is pulled up, so everyone is clearly home. Dinner is probably ready. But they just sort of linger at the driveway, not wanting to part ways just yet but coming to an impasse.

“Well, I'll see you tomorrow.” Madoka starts.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” Homura agrees. They're standing an arm's length apart, still holding hands.

“Uh...” Madoka stands still, not knowing what to do.

“Mm...” Homura hums, looking away.

Madoka has to be the one to make the move. She moves back in and hugs her, “Goodnight, Homura.”

“Goodnight.” Homura replies, about to return the hug but being met with a kiss as well. Her heart skips a beat, and they both linger there to relish in the warmth. Soon enough, it has to end, and so they part once more. Homura hesitantly backs up and starts heading home while Madoka coily waves at her with a big, dumb grin which she expects to be replaced with a frown.

But it never comes.


	21. Children's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kaname family celebrate the holiday.

Today would have been an average day for the Kaname family. Or, an average holiday. Thanks to Children's Day being pretty major, everyone got the day off to celebrate. But of course, yesterday having happened, it can't be just another simple celebration.

It's early in the day when Madoka comes to her parents, busy setting up decorative samurai dolls, and tells them with confounding anxiety, “Ah...uh... Mama? Papa? I need to tell you something.”

They both turn around and look at each other, then at her, silently expecting a follow-up. Of course, Junko can guess what's probably up, but has to restrain her mischievous grin.

And then she's out with it, “I... I found someone.”

“...Found someone?” her father asks, reasonably sure what she means but still needing to be positive.

“I mean that... Someone... Ah...” she starts to stammer, becoming even more unmanageably flustered than she meant to. Then, she hardly whispers, “A lover...”

“Hmmm?” Junko hums.

She repeats it, more confidently, “I have...a lover, now.”

Now she no longer needs to hold back. Junko grins widely, and starts teasing her, “Oh really? I wonder, is this that person you were telling me about the other day? When did this happen, hmm?” Meanwhile, Tomohisa is frozen in shock.

Madoka clears her throat, “It was uh...yesterday. I got confessed to, and...yeah. I meant to tell you last night, but I was a bit too excited.”

“Oho, and why are you saying it _now_ of all times?” Junko asks.

Madoka blushes harder, “I...uh...”

Junko stands up, puts her hands on her hips, and asks while still grinning, “Were you going to ask us something?”

“Can...” Madoka gulps “Can I invite them over?”

“On Children's Day?” Junko leers forward “Don't they have a family to tend to right now?”

Madoka suddenly shifts from embarrassment to something much more somber as she hesitates to answer, “...Not really. They don't celebrate it, I guess.”

This honestly should have tipped her father off, but he was too busy lost in thought to hear her. Junko instead picks up on it and can probably guess who she's talking about. So, she loses the teasing demeanor and bluntly answers, “Alright.”

“What?” Madoka looks genuinely surprised.

“They can come over and celebrate with us. It'll be fun.” Junko says, turning back around and fiddling with the decorations. “Anyways, come help us make mochi after you call.”

Madoka nods happily and runs off to her room. A second later, Tomohisa stands up, “Junko, honey, can you handle the rest of this?”

“Eh?”

“I need to go prepare myself.” he says, clenching his fists.

She grins, “Oh? For what?”

He looks down at the floor, “A _decade_. I have been preparing myself for a decade for this day, when my little girl would grow up. I need to prepare to meet this guy, whoever he is. So can you handle this?”

She chuckles, stands up, and pats him on the shoulder knowing what's going to happen, “You take all of the time you need. I'll be happy to finish everything up. Just watch Tatsuya for me, okay?”

“That's fine.” he says with a determined stare into the distance. He picks Tatsuya up off of the floor along with some toy car he was playing with and heads into his and Junko's bedroom.

Once he's gone, Junko quietly cackles to herself, “This...is going to be _good_.”

Upstairs, Madoka pounces onto her bed and starts texting Homura.  
  
[Madoka]  
“homura! mama and papa said you could come over!”  
[13:15]

[Homura]  
“Very well. When should I arrive?”  
[13:16]

[Madoka]  
“mama wanted me to help with the cooking, so it should take a few hours”  
[13:16]

[Homura]  
“Do you want me to help with it?”  
[13:17]

[Madoka]  
“no, no, it's okay! just come over and relax”  
[13:17]

[Homura]  
“So does three hours from now sound fine?”  
[13:17]

[Madoka]  
“yeah we'll have lots of mochi done by then! we can eat it together! do you like mochi, homura?”  
[13:18]

[Homura]  
“It has been a long time since I last had it. I have forgotten what it tastes like.”  
[13:18]

[Madoka]  
“i'll make them super good for you then! I'll see you soon”  
[13:19]

[Homura]  
“Yes. See you soon.”  
[13:19]

Madoka smiles widely and hugs her phone as if she's hugging Homura, then excitedly jumps up from the bed and runs downstairs to help her mother.

The typical dishes served on Children's Day are mochi stuffed with Azuki red bean paste and usually wrapped in an oak leaf, and stick rice cakes wrapped in bamboo leaves and steamed. Mochi being a rice-based pastry that needs to beaten and rolled a lot. Both tend to come out fairly sweet, especially with additives. “Kashiwa Mochi” and “Chimaki” respectively.

As soon as she runs down to tell her mother that she's ready, Junko points her towards the kitchen and says, “The rice should be done steaming, soon. Just go roll up the Azuki for me, I'll be there in a second. Make two dozen.”

Madoka nods along happily and skips to work. Rolling up bean paste is a lot harder than it would sound. Like rolling dough without any flour on your hands, such that it just keeps sticking and leaving residue behind that you have to scoop up and re-add, which itself sticks more of it to your hand. It's just really unreasonable. She ends up making a mess of her hands, and drops a little bit of it on the flowery apron she put on just before.

By the time that's done, her mother comes by and asks how it's going, then gives her a look when she notices the mess. Madoka just gives her trademark “wehihi” and washes her hands off while Junko takes out the rice for the Chimaki. Madoka sets out the bamboo leaves, and they begin arranging and rolling them up, tying with string with the efficiency of an assembly line until at least 15 of them and ready to be put in their fancy digital steamer.

The next step is the Mochi, for which they get out a sweet rice flour and just add water. After a bit of whisking and microwaving the product, Madoka gets to be the one to take the pestle and start mashing the mushy, sticky mass until it's a stretchy, sticky, glutinous mass. That probably doesn't sound appetizing, but that's pretty much what a lot of baked goods are. She overdoes it a bit and ends up almost slipping the bowl off of the cutting board that got covered in flour beforehand. But Junko catches it, and they start kneading the rice cake into smooth balls, spreading them out again with rolling pins, and then wrapping them around the bean paste balls. They end up looking like fat, droopy dumplings. Surprisingly, the cakes themselves aren't actually that sticky. Not as much as the rice they use tends to be. The final step is to just put them in the carefully washes and groomed oak leaves.

And it's done. A huge plate full of beautifully crafted mochi. Junko comments as much, “That's...not bad.” and pats her daughter on the back.

A little bit later, while cleaning up and waiting for the chimaki to finish steaming, Madoka hears her father in the other room yelling something to himself in some grandiose, overly-manly fashion that fades out as he realizes that what he said is stupid. Something like, “If you want my daughter, you'll have to get through me fi— No, that might come out wrong...”

So she turns to her mother and asks, “Uh...what's papa doing?”

Junko chuckles to herself and whispers to her, “He thinks it's a guy!”

“What?” Madoka looks perplexed.

“I didn't tell him!” Junko continues.

“What!?” Madoka looks slightly offended and concerned at once.

“Shh, shh!” she hushes her “Ah, we're going to play a bit of a joke on him! When your girlfriend comes over, don't tell him that you're lovers. It's gonna be _hilarious_ when he figures it out!”

Madoka grunts, “Ah— Mama, that's mean! You have to tell him!”

“I will!” she insists “Just wait for the right time! Wait until he's wondering where the boyfriend is, and then we'll say it.”

Madoka pouts, “Mama... Come on...”

Junko pats her on the head, “Madoka, honey, it's okay! I used to do this all the time, he'll know it's just a joke.”

Madoka raises an eyebrow, “'Used to'?”

“Yeah,” Junko reminisces “I used to play pranks on him every so often. He thought it was really cute when we were dating, but I haven't really done it in years. Like that one time I made him think that my grandmother's ghost was haunting my parents' house!” she starts cackling “Oh my god, the _look on his face_ when I came in there with the makeup on and the bedsheet! _Aaaaaaaaaah!_”

In the midst of Junko's hysterics, Madoka just sighs and gives her a small smile, then meekly agrees to keep it a secret for a little bit longer. Then Junko asks, “So, who did you end up picking?”

Madoka shakes her head, then turns and smiles, “That's a secret!”

“Ah.” Junko says, thinking to herself, _“Did...she just hold a grudge?”_

* * *

It's around 16:30 when Homura finally rounds the corner to the Kaname house with a large bag full of god knows what (literally), and she notices the bigass flagpole that they seem to have put up in their yard. On top is four carp streamers flying in the afternoon wind: One red, one black, one salmon pink, and one blue in order of size. Clearly, Junko is the one who made them. Or bought them. Upon closer inspection, the first two look painted.

This afternoon, she's decided to not go for anything too special. Just a T-shirt, skirt, and tights. It gives off a very casual street-wear look. She had trouble deciding whether to go with the skirt or the denim shorts, and decided that the latter might come off as too preppy for her more typically refined aesthetic. Though, “refined” isn't exactly what her current attire brings to mind either.

She comes up to the door and knocks; given the door is glass, it's hard to do without feeling like she's about to break it. Then, from around the corner, she can easily see Madoka's head poke out and suddenly break out in a huge grin. She runs to the door, followed by her mother peeking over to see who it is, subsequently giving Homura a knowing stare. As soon as the door is unlocked and Homura comes in, Madoka nearly tackles her to the ground with how eager her hug is.

“Homuraaaa!” she coos, nuzzling into her cheek. Her mother starts chuckling in the background, then goes back to her business.

Homura is probably just as surprised as she is, “Madoka!? Ah...what are you trying to do?” she hugs back.

“Whaaat?” Madoka slurs, still firmly attached. She whispers, “I just looove you, Homura.” then covertly kisses her on the cheek.

Homura sighs, “You're awfully excited, aren't you?” then coyly returns the kiss. Of course, nobody else is watching right now.

Slowly, they part, but with their hands still connected when Madoka notices the bag. “Hm?” she wonders “What's that?”

Homura shakes her head, “Oh, nothing much. Just some things I decided to bring over. I think you'll like them.”

Madoka tries to peek in the bag, but Homura keeps moving it away from her, “Uh...hey, hey! Madoka, stop!”

Madoka leans over her should to try to get at it, giggling playfully, “Come ooon, show me!”

Homura grumbles, “I'll show you later, now come on; let me get my shoes off.”

Madoka gets off of her, “Oooh, alright.”

Slowly, Homura takes off her shoes and proceeds into the house a little ways, following Madoka who leads her giddily into the living room. Homura can't really take her eyes off of her; the pink hoodie and shorts she's wearing are so unbelievably cute that she could almost faint just from thinking too hard about them. Granted, it must be hot under there. _“Yes, hot. Very hot. Very, very...”_

Tomo looks over his shoulder, having finished his “practice”, and is playing with Tatsuya: they just finished folding a paper kabuto helmet and putting it on him. “Oh, homura, welcome! Didn't expect you, but make yourself at home.”

Tatsuya yells, “Yaaaaah!” and starts waddling towards Homura with his hands outstretched. The paper helmet is too big for him, so it slides down and covers his eyes, making him stumble around.

Homura can't help but put a hand over her mouth and start choking from holding in a laugh. “Oh my god...” she says quietly “That's...so _adorable_!” Coincidentally, Madoka seems to be thinking the same thing, as they both chuckle to each other. Madoka picks him up and fixes the helmet, “Tatsuya! Do you like Homura?”

“Yeah!” he says, but it really just sounds like unintelligable shouting.

“Wanna say hi?”

“Yeah!” he says again, but then hugs Madoka.

Homura huffs, then brushes back her hair, “Well, he has the right idea.” and then casually hugs the both of them. “Madoka, your family never ceases to amaze me.” she comments.

“Hm?” Madoka says “I don't get it, but thanks?”

Meanwhile, Junko stares at them, a hand on her chin and thinking, _“They'll make good parents. Definitely.”_ Then, she stops spacing out for a second and quickly takes her phone out to snap a photo of the three. The shutter sound alerts everyone.

“Eh?” they all say at once, looking at Junko, who smiles smugly. Madoka cries out, “Mamaaaa! What was that?”

Junko laughs it off, “Sorry, sorry! You kids just looked so cute together I had to take a picture!”

Not making any further facial expression, Homura blushes lightly and steps back. Junko turns her attention to her and asks as she puts her phone away, “So, Homura, what do you think? The place looks nice, doesn't it?”

At this point, she takes a moment to actually look around. There's streamers strung around everywhere, probably bought from a party supplies store. Very western. Plush Samurai dolls are set up on a few tables and shelves, miniature pieces of iconic armor around them, and then she turns around... Staring her in the face next to the television of their living room is a massive set of actual armor, complete with a katana on a stand and a bunch of flowers. It's all hung up in such a way to look like an actual samurai sitting in seiza, and is actually rather impressive given how goddamn expensive it must have been.

Her mouth hangs open long enough for Junko to ask, “I guess you're impressed by that piece over there?”

Homura stutters back, “O-Oh, yeah! I guess that was hard to put up, wasn't it?”

“Well, he was the one to put it up.” she motions towards Tomohisa.

“I see.” Homura says, looking at him.

He stands up, “Yeah, it took all day, yesterday. Couldn't get the helmet to stay up!” he laughs.

Homura looks around a bit more, noticing the huge plate of mochi sitting on the table. “Ah” she says “I guess you made that, Madoka?”

“Me and Mama!” Madoka says proudly.

Homura smiles at her fondly, “Well, I can't wait to try some.” Madoka goes to pick one up, but Homura interrupts her, “_As a snack._”

Madoka blushes, “Ah...” and then remembers “Oh! Papa, what's for dinner?”

He comes around and pats her on the back as he proceeds to the kitchen, “You're just now thinking about that? Well, I was thinking Yosenabe. Just a full pot, with all sorts of things. After all, we have to be hospitable for your...” he clears his throat and barely manages to say it “..._lover_.” and then he looks at Homura. “And besides, we'll need something big for two extra people.”

Homura raises her eyebrow at this, then looks at Madoka, “Uh...” Madoka starts covertly motioning towards her mother, who then gives Homura a mischievous wink, trying to suppress her hysterics but about to fail miserably. It takes a moment, but it eventually clicks. “Ah.” she just says. “Right.”

She's about to suggest the girls all go up to Madoka's room to explain what the hell is specifically going on, but then Tomohisa speaks again, “You know, you could probably all go out to the park while I make this. I'll call you when it's about done.”

Well, it's convenient enough. Junko jumps on the opportunity, “Sounds like a good idea! Kids, get your shoes on!” Then she remembers Tatsuya and goes to pluck him out of Madoka's arms, “Well, you come with me.”

Homura sighs, “Jeez, I just got here... Oh well. Mado—” Before she can finish, Madoka runs up and links their arms together, swinging about and leading her outside.

This marks the second time she's been in their car. And next to Madoka. Except this time, it's less of a calm and quiet retreat and more of an excited adventure. As adventurous as going to the park is, anyways. Instead of resting her head on Homura's shoulder Madoka is bouncing in her seat and Tatsuya is mimicking her, and the entire damn backseat is shaking.

“Madoka!” Junko yells “Calm down, jeez! You're gonna break the car in half!” she starts laughing. Madoka laughs with her, then settles back down into her seat. Though, Homura can easily tell she's still overwhelmingly excited. Junko calls out as much, “Eager, aren't you? I guess this is sort of your first date, isn't it? Unless you count all those other times.”

“You knew?” Homura asks.

Junko proudly confirms, “Come on, I knew from the moment she came out that it would be you! You're all she ever talked about!”

Homura tries to hide her blush, “...Really?”

“All the time.” Junko says.

“M-Mama! Don't talk about that!” Madoka complains and pouts to no avail.

Junko chuckles, “Come on, it's not like you're still playing footsy with her!” Madoka blushes, looking down. They've been doing exactly that for this entire conversation. Both of the girls fall silent as Junko continues to laugh, “Ohoho, you _were_? Aaah! That's too rich!” Of course, after that fit fades away and they're about to the park, she tells them, “Hey, you two just do whatever you want. I'll take care of Tatsuya, so just enjoy yourselves. There's a couple of kites in the trunk if you want one.”

The girls don't say anything, but Madoka smiles enough to show thanks, and they nuzzle up against each other. In a minute, they've arrive. Junko parks, they all get out, and proceed to the wide open field area. Madoka and Homura prompted not to go flying anything, and sort of just wander away from the other two and into a much more comfortable shaded area beneath some trees where they lay out a blanket and just sort of sit together with their fingers intertwined.

While looking up at the veritable parade of carp kites being flown by the crowds a little ways away from them, Homura starts with something simple, “This...is really nice.”

“Hm?” Madoka smiles at her.

“This. Just relaxing on a day off. With you. And your family is really nice. I...” she starts to well up with tears again. Madoka immediately notices and lunges to hug her. “I'm so happy. I never thought I could have something like this...”

Madoka wipes away her few tears before they can fall, kissing her on the cheek, “Well, now you have it. You'll always have this, so you don't need to be sad anymore.”

Homura can't help but smile, “I'm not sad...” she says “...I just...” she sniffles “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Madoka holds her tightly, and Homura hugs back so hard that it feels like she's about to crush her. “It's...! It's okay, just let it out!” Instead of fighting, she just keeps smiling and patting her head, enduring just long enough for Homura to finally loosen up. Madoka gasps quietly, “Okay...tight. Wow. Um...”

Homura apologizes, “Sorry. Just got a little...”

Madoka slowly cups her cheeks, then closes in and kisses her again. “A little carried away?” she finishes.

“Yeah.” Homura says. Then they go at it again, not quite as hard as the first time they kissed, but enough that it's readily apparent to anyone who glances that they're making out. Because goddammit, Madoka just can't control herself anymore. Gotta let it out somehow. Of course people are starting to stare. But they didn't expect...

“Oh my.” a familiar voice says from not too far away.

Both of the girls look up from their session, and Madoka exclaims, “Mami!? How long were you standing there!?”

Mami chuckles, “Long enough! I couldn't believe my eyes, so I got a closer look; but it really is you two, isn't it?”

They both blush and try to look away but end up looking at each other, then down into their laps. Nagisa, who's tagging along with Mami and holding her own kite, comes up from behind her and asks, “Mami, what are they doing?”

Mami pats her on the head, “Oh, they're just showing how much they love each other!” She then turns to the lovebirds and says, “Well, I didn't expect to see you both here, and much less kissing in public. So when did this happen?”

Homura looks up at her, “You mean you're not upset?” Of course, Homura knows what Mami's orientation is, and thus already knows the answer to that question. She only asks to provoke the answer for Madoka to hear.

And Mami does answer, “Of course not! I'm not exactly much different, you see. Ah, I might have been crushing on a couple of you all when we had tea and cake that one time!”

“Really?” Madoka asks with intrigue.

Mami nods, “But I guess it just wasn't meant to be...” She looks sad at first, but quickly jumps back to her usual demeanor, “But oh well! As long as my friends are happy, I'm happy. And I have little Nagisa here to keep me company!” She looks down at Nagisa, but is met by a strange glare from her. “Ah, Nagisa...?” she tries to ask.

“I wanna kiss Mami!” she yells, ignorant of the implications.

“Wh-What!?” Mami is taken aback.

Nagisa re-asserts herself, “I love Mami! I wanna do it toooo!” She puckers her lips in an exaggerated fashion and tries to do it, but Mami just holds her back with one hand.

“Nagisa, no! That's not what that means, it's different!” Mami tries to tell her. Alas, she does not give up.

“How is it!?” Nagisa demands to know.

“It...It just is! I'll explain it later!” Mami yells.

“But—!”

“No buts!” Then she starts tearing up, which elicits a unison “Oh no” from everyone. Mami stops her, though, “Hey, you can have some cake later if you calm down, okay?”

Nagisa immediately stops. Homura thinks, _“Ah, bribery. That's just like you, Mami.”_

“I'll see you two at school, tomorrow! Have fun!” Mami tells them as she herds Nagisa off.

Homura then yells to her, “Hey! Don't tell the others!”

“I won't!” Mami yells back.

Madoka chuckles, “Wow, that was close. I never would have guessed, right?”

“Uh, sure.” Homura agrees nervously. They would have gone right back to kissing, but she then had something else to ask, “Say, Madoka...what was with your father? Have you not told him?”

Madoka shakes her head, “Well...I kind of did. But, well, Mama is playing a bit of a prank on him.”

“A prank?”

Madoka explains, “Yeah. He doesn't know I like girls. Mama wants to surprise him. I guess during dinner or something.”

Homura shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “She is something else...but...I guess I'll play along. Won't be too long.”

And then, silence. A minute or so passes as they watch the time go by before Madoka decides to curl up on the blanket and lay on her side. Homura looks down at her as she reaches up and says, “Come here...” And she does, they both curl up beside each other and just stare into one another's eyes while holding hands.

“You're pretty.” Madoka compliments out of nowhere.

Homura retorts, “You're beautiful.”

“_You're_ gorgeous.” Madoka says right back.

They both smile and kiss again, briefly. Then again, for a bit longer. Homura tells her, “It's a nice day. All of these kites are too, but I can't help but just look at you.”

Madoka turns red and half-moans, “Homura...” which makes them both get a little hot and bothered. “Let's...just stay like this for a while.”

“I would love to.” Homura agrees.

And then they just lie there, staring at each other and sometimes kissing, — it's almost become a habit already — ignoring the entire world for each other. They lose track of time. Well, it might as well not exist. If she could get away with it, Homura would actually freeze everything right here. But alas. Soon enough, Junko gets a call that dinner is just about ready, and she has to go over and cut the girls' lovey-dovey time short. They're a little disappointed, but it had to end at some point anyways.

By the time they get home, Tomohisa is already setting out the bowls and utensils. Everyone else decides that it's probably a good idea to take a shower. To Madoka and Junko's surprise, Homura opts to go in separately. They assume she's just very shy about her body. Or perhaps something _else_. When that's done, dinner is finally ready: they all sit down to eat. Tomohisa and Junko on one side, Madoka and Homura on the other, Tatsuya in his high chair to the side.

Once everyone's seated, Tomohisa speaks, “Well, here it is. I made enough so that everyone could have a little bit of everything. Steak, Udon, eggs, mushrooms, leeks, Tofu, and fish.”

“It looks amazing.” Homura comments. Madoka nods in agreement.

Junko starts them off, “Well, I guess it's time to eat, isn't it? Everyone...”

They all say thanks and start picking the whole pot dry at the seams. Tatsuya, on the side, gets a much more manageable helping of dry food and fresh vegetables. Junko takes the majority of the steak and eggs, Tomohisa gets a lot of tofu but is otherwise balanced, and Madoka mainly goes for eggs and noodles. Homura barely gets anything and Madoka notices.

“Homura, eat! You're gonna be all bones if you don't!” she complains.

“I'll be fine. Just enjoy yourself.” Homura dismisses.

Madoka pouts and crosses her arms, “Do I need to feed you again?”

Homura coughs in an attempt to cover her gasp, which doesn't really work well, “N-No! That won't be n...necessary at all!” Inside, she's screaming, _“Madoka, what the hell!? In front of your parents, at a dinner table, with soup!? That's too much!”_ Unbeknownst to her, she is clearly blushing, and only Junko can see. She grins, thinking it's one of the cutest things she's ever seen.

“Then eaaat!” Madoka drones on, poking her with chopsticks until she starts to get more actual sustenance.

Then, Tomohisa speaks up after eating a slight bit, “So, Madoka... I suppose your 'lover' isn't going to make it?”

“Uh...” Madoka hesitates. Junko also perks up, looking for her time to strike.

“Well...” he continues “I guess he just didn't have the guts.” He scoffs “I guess facing me was just too intimidating for him!” He...looks so proud of that.

Madoka looks away, almost disappointed with him, “Er... Papa...”

Meanwhile, Junko is trying as hard as she possibly can to hold herself together. She's literally shaking.

He goes on, “And here I was, thinking I would finally be able to test someone who's worthy of my daughter!”

By god, his tone has become straight up _haughty_. Madoka is so embarrassed that she can only plant her face in her hands and lay them on the table. Even Homura is starting to grin at how stupid this setup is.

“Maybe he...” he's about to keep going, but then notices everyone is snickering. “What?” he asks.

Junko speaks up in the midst of letting herself slip, “Madoka, Homura, girls...!”

They take it to be the cue. Madoka sits up and tells him, “Dad...I don't have a boyfriend. I like girls. Homura...is my girlfriend.”

Homura blushes, smiles, and just waves as the two of them reveal they've been holding hands the entire time he was ranting.

And then...silence. As if his entire life just crumbled to pieces in front of him and the universe were revealed to be a simulation, he just gazes into the open with a thousand-yard-stare, trying to comprehend how he has been bamboozled. Then, he slowly turns to his wife and asks, “Did you...?”

His question is promptly answered when he sees her just burst out in pained laughter, patting his shoulder as a consolation, although it does nothing to ease him. Then, he lurches forward, scoots out his chair, and circles halfway around the table with that still-stunned look in his eyes. He then picks up Tatsuya and holds him in the air before suddenly yelling, “TATSUYA!”

“Weh?” Tatsuya...makes a sound.

“YOU'RE GOING TO GROW UP AND BE BIG AND STRONG, RIGHT!?”

The baby starts sucking its thumb.

“YOU'RE GOING TO BE THE MAN OF THE HOUSE ONE DAY, RIGHT!?”

Tatsuya starts trying to play with his glasses.

“IT'S UP TO YOU, NOW! YOU HAVE TO GIVE US WONDERFUL GRANDCHILDREN AND KEEP THE FAMILY GOING!” he cries out on the verge of tears.

Tatsuya coos at him, not understanding or really caring about whatever his father is going on about.

Tomohisa lowers him along with his voice while Junko is laughing so damn hard she's about to fall out of her chair. He then says, “You'll meet a nice woman, and have a happy, productive life just like me! Right!?”

Finally, Junko grabs his shoulder and holds herself back just long enough to speak, “H-Honey... Dear... Oh my god, stop! It's too much, I can't...!” Subsequently, he puts Tatsuya back in his high chair, who goes back to eating like nothing happened. He then goes back and takes his seat, breathes deeply, and then goes back to relative normality.

Junko, who is still in tears from losing her sides asks him, “You... You better?”

“Better.” he answers, going back to his food.

“It has been _too long_.” she says. “Anyways, you know they can just adopt, right?”

He stops eating again to stare at her. Apparently, he hadn't considered this obvious solution. Then he remembers why, “Wait, isn't adoption illegal for them?”

“Well...” Junko tries to think of a loophole for that.

But then Homura interrupts, with the sweetest smile on her face, “Oh, I don't think we need to worry about that.” Her voice carries something a lot different from usual. Normally, it's monotonous and depressive, maybe a bit sultry at times. But this... It's almost _arrogant_. Or possibly threatening. “...Yes, I don't think that will be the case for much longer.” And then she claps her hands cutely. “Well, let's get back to dinner!” She uncharacteristically starts to pig out a bit on it, and manages to finish before everyone else.

Madoka, though surprised and confused, is happy for her. For the rest of their dinner, Madoka's dad regains his cool and expresses relief that Homura is the girlfriend, given they already kind of offered a place in the home. He just didn't expect this in particular. A decade. He had spent a decade preparing for the moment when he would defend his daughter from any guys who wanted to get their hands on her. And now she comes home with a girl. It's somehow both a good and a bad thing, but he finds no reason to not just accept it. Junko, meanwhile, endlessly teases him about how pranked he just was. Honestly, she can be a bit childish at times.

After dinner, everyone decides to go and try their hands at making crafts. Namely, paper carp. It was mostly for Tatsuya, but the girls joined in just to have something to do. Homura intentionally held back her creative skills and just made a normal one, while Madoka's ended up looking frankly generic. But she doesn't mind. Nobody really does. Predictably, Tatsuya's is a total mess and he does not give one iota of a shit.

After they're done, Madoka and Homura find themselves both seated on the couch, with the desserts laid out on the coffee table in front of them. Everyone is just laying around, enjoying the moment.

“Homura!” Madoka calls out, picking up a ball of mochi from its leaf.

“Yeees?” Homura coos back.

“Open your mouth!” she demands.

Homura chuckles fondly, “Of course.” and does so.

And then she just sort of plops it in there like it's a piece of candy. Homura bites down and her mouth is immediately filled to the point of looking like a bunny. “Mm?” she hums, trying to speak. Madoka giggles at her trying to chew it. But she manages to swallow eventually, and just asks, “The whole thing?”

“Sorry.” Madoka apologizes while still smiling.

Homura chuckles again, “It was good. Wonderful. I'm sure I'll love anything you make.” She kisses her on the cheek and rubs her head, to which she hums pleasantly.

Then, Homura takes one and does the same thing, but just gives her a little bit. “Bite.” she says, and Madoka tears off a piece.

“Mm.” she says “It's good!” and gets fed the rest.

And they just sort of go back and forth like that until Homura finally remembers, “Oh! The bag!”

“Hm?” Madoka hums in the middle of chewing some mochi.

Homura then retreats back to the entrance and grabs the bag she nearly forgot about, bringing it back. “I have a few things...” She then pulls out at least three slices of store-bought cheesecake, a bunch of chocolate bars, and finally...a solid black stuffed salamander. One that...looks just like the earring Homura is constantly wearing.

Madoka lifts it up for a moment and just stares in awe at it. But eventually she cracks a smile and then nearly tackles Homura while giggling, “Homura, I love it! It's so cuuuuute! Just like you!”

Homura giggles back, “That's good. I know you like plush things, so I couldn't help but think of you when I saw it. I'm glad you love it so much.”

“Mm...” Madoka hums, nuzzling into her, “But I wonder if I'll still need stuffed animals when I have you.”

She doesn't get it at first. Not until a few seconds later when she buries her face into Madoka's hair and makes the most adorable squeak while hugging her.

At that point, while watching, Junko decides to get up and go talk with her husband about something in private. Homura decides not to eavesdrop, but whatever they said, it causes Junko to go rummaging around in the basement for something. About ten minutes later, after coming out and going outside, she comes back in asks Homura, “So, I suppose we should probably welcome you formally!”

“What?” she looks dumbfounded. “Have you not already?”

Junko shakes her head, “Dunno. Not properly at least. But I figure today is the perfect time. Come on, get up, let's go outside.”

Madoka and Homura just look at each other in shared confusion, but just follow her. Tomohisa picks up Tatsuya again and heads out behind them. Junko leads them out into the yard, in clear view of the streamers, but the girls aren't quite sure why they're outside.

Junko and Tomohisa both face the flagpole and beckon the girls to look as well. The former asks, “Well, here it is.”

“...What?” Homura continues to not see it.

Junko laughs, and Tomohisa explains a bit, “Well, ever since Madoka introduced you to us and you both started getting along so well, we've welcomed you here like one of our own. But you already knew that. But now that you two are really together, she thought it was a good time to welcome you properly. Not just as a friend, but as someone she might spend the rest of her life with.”

Junko nods along, “I've heard your story, Homura. I can't remember if you told me, or he did, or whatever, but... If you don't have a family, handmade is fine, right? And my intuition tells me that Madoka isn't going to let go of you so easily.”

Homura is still looking around, trying to figure out what they're trying to show her, when Junko taps her shoulder and tells her to look up, “The streamers. Count them. Red, black, pink...” she intentionally stops.

Homura continues, “...Violet, blue. Violet, blue... Vio—” she suddenly stops when she realizes the violet one wasn't there before. Red, black, pink, violet, blue. Five streamers. Five of them, including her. She stares up at them for a while longer, silently taking the sight in. The others look up as well, then eventually down at her, expecting a response. Instead of formulating anything coherent, she just starts tearing up and repeating the phrase Junko told her, “Handmade...is fine. Hand...” She starts to choke up a bit, which transitions into restrained sobbing as she tries to wipe away her tears, but they just keep coming.

“Homura...” Madoka reaches for her, slowly embracing her and letting her cry into her shoulder again. It seems to be her favorite place, after all. Soon enough, the entire family is gather around in what must be their second ever group hug. Between the choked cries and inaudible mumbling, Homura manages to spit out something they can't quite understand. But eventually, when she calms down a little, she says it, “Thank you... Thank you so much...” and then goes right back to it.

They end up standing outside and comforting her until the sun starts to set. By then, she suddenly realizes, “Oh... Oh, I should probably be...getting home. It's getting dark.”

Of course, Madoka tries to protest, “What? No, stay here! I don't want to leave you alone right now.”

Her parents have parted from them.

“It's okay.” Homura insists, still trying to clear her eyes. “I'll be okay.”

Madoka looks absolutely distraught over this. She looks at her mother, who gives her a similar look, and then back at Homura. “But...” she tries to argue.

“No.” Homura stops her “I just need to be alone for tonight, okay? Don't worry, please.”

Madoka doesn't want to accept this, but she can't think of any way to stop her, so she just meekly agrees. Homura, seeing that this isn't going to go well for her, decides to promise her, “Madoka... A while back, I said you could spend the night at my place, right?” She nods. “Well, we never really did that. But if you want, I promise I'll let you stay over sometime soon. This weekend, maybe?”

Well, that puts a smile on her face. Madoka nods along, “Yeah...I want to see Homura's home, too!” She giggles, “Homu-home!” and pokes Homura's nose. Now they're both grinning like idiots.

“...Well, I'll get going now. Thank you for everything. Goodnight.”

Not willing to let it end right there, Madoka lunges into her as she tries to back away and says, “I love you!” before kissing her again, this time more like their first, but Homura doesn't quite let it go so far you'd be tempted to put an R-rating on it. Junko is impressed she had the gall to actually do that in the open, and Tomohisa doesn't know what to think anymore. He just accepts it.

But Homura eventually pushes her away and laughs, “Madoka! Come on, I love you too. But I need to go.”

Madoka nods sadly, “Okay... See you tomorrow.” They wave at each other. Homura passes by the adults and explains things briefly, and they wave goodbye as well.

As they head back inside, Homura can hear Junko teasing Madoka about the kiss. Honestly, it's adorable. Almost as much as Madoka herself is. And by the time Homura gets back to her apartment, she's literally so relaxed that she just collapses into her bed, ignores the mess the clara dolls have made (it's baaaad), and immediately falls into a blissful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a surprisingly long time to make. Hope it's worth it.
> 
> Note: After a lot of consideration, I've decided to take a break from this in order to work on other projects.


	22. Foreshadowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka tells Sayaka about what happened. Madohomu go out for an ice cream date. Madoka is still high on love.

Under normal circumstances, Madoka would be walking to school with her friends. Under normal circumstances, Homura would be literally the first person in class besides the teacher. But for some reason, their friends are finding themselves otherwise alone. Kyouko, Sayaka, and Hitomi are gathered around Sayaka's desk, where she notes it, “It's like, ten minutes before class starts; where are they?”

Kyouko shrugs, “Never seen Homura miss a day. Or even be late.”

Hitomi, who has been standing quietly and in deep thought while the other two have been talking, finally speaks up, “Sayaka, Kyouko... I was thinking, what might you believe happened the other day with regards to Madoka?”

The other two look at each other for a minute. Sayaka starts to think, “She got confessed to, right? I wonder if something bad happened...”

“Nah.” Kyouko dismissively throws her hand “No way. I can't imagine she'd turn down who confessed. She's too much of a softy, y'know?”

Sayaka shrugs, “I don't know, she turned down a couple of guys waaaaay back when.”

Kyouko chuckles, “Yeah, I could see th—!”

SUDDENLY, the classroom door slams open! Everyone whips around to see what's going on, to be met by two clara dolls who have nearly broken the door down in an attempt to make an extravagant entrance. They present the open door, from which four more dolls come out and start throwing confetti everywhere while chanting in german, “Hier kommt die Göttin! Hier kommt die Göttin! Hier kommt die Göttin!”

Homura, looking very upset about the whole show of things, reluctantly follows them hand-in-hand with Madoka who is smiling but in an utterly perplexed way. Behind them are the rest of the dolls also throwing confetti and generally making a mess of things. Once the girls are through, the dolls circle around them one more time and finally run off through the hallways, skipping and twirling, probably off to light a trash can on fire or commit petty theft.

“Well now.” Hitomi comments “That was...interesting.”

“What the...?” Sayaka squints confusedly.

Kyouko explains, “Her cousins, apparently.”

“Madoka's!?”

“Homura's.”

“Oh, that explains it.”

As Homura passes by on the way to her seat, she smacks Sayaka on the back of the head for that comment and greets everyone, “Good morning.”

Sayaka decides to just not do anything. Instead, she turns her attention to Madoka who's on her other side and asks, “Hey, what's up?”

“Hm?” Madoka sits down and acts clueless.

“The other day, what happened? Was...” She looks around, gets up, and whispers into her ear, “Was it _her_?”

Madoka's eyes dart around nervously as she debates what to say. On one hand, Sayaka doesn't seem to have been too upset about the idea. On the other hand, she still hasn't really tested the water with anything besides just telling her that it was probably Homura writing the letters. She doesn't know much of anything yet, so she could really spin the story any way she wants to be as vague as necessary. Sure, they've been friends since forever, but she's seen plenty of friendships get ended over something like this. And then there's Kyouko, who seems to be in the know about a lot. Did she already talk? How much does she know exactly? Would she...?

By the time she's reached that thought, Sayaka has started poking her in the forehead, “Uhh...you there? Madoka?”

“Y-Yes!?” Madoka stammers, her voice cracking suspiciously.

Sayaka cocks her eyebrow, “Did you not get enough sleep or something?”

Madoka shakes her head, “No, no, I'm fine.”

“Alright, so what happened the other day?”

Well, so much for evasion. “Well...” she thinks for a moment. She wanted to go about this delicately, but the more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense to just go all in and whatever happens, happens. What's the worst that could happen?

Actually, that might have jinxed it. But she swallows her self-inflicted omen and tells her, “...Yeah, it was her.”

Sayaka looks down, just kind of staring into nothing for a moment while she absorbs that. “Huh...” she says. Around this time, Kyouko joins the two and asks what's up.

Hitomi does the same, “Hey! I want to know, too!”

Kyouko walks around Sayaka and pushes Hitomi away, “Nope. Not gonna happen. Sit down.”

“What!?” Hitomi complains “But I'm her friend too! I need to know about this!”

Kyouko forces her back into her seat, “No way, lettuce-head. We know how much you gossip.” Hitomi pouts, but stays put while Kyouko rejoins the other two, “So...what happened?”

Madoka clears her throat, revealing a huge, embarrassed grin while her face lights up, “Well...uh... I got my first...” her voice goes below a whisper and into what can only be described as an exhale, “...kiss.”

“Eh?” Sayaka cups her ear and leans in a bit.

“K-Kiss...” Madoka repeats a little louder. “We kissed.” She buries her hands in her lap and stiffens.

Sayaka looks almost offended. “K—!?” she nearly yells, then goes back down to a cautious whisper “Kissed!? Really!? Before ME!?”

Kyouko starts snickering, “Wow, okay. Good to know that, Sayaka!” she pats her on the back to little assuagement. That is, Sayaka swats her back.

“Yeah...” Madoka continues, getting redder and redder “She confessed, and I was already going to accept, and then I got my first...and second. And third...and fourth...and—”

“Okay, I get it.” Sayaka stops her. “So...what, you're dating now?”

Madoka cheerfully replies, “Yep! I introduced her to mama and papa yesterday. But as my...” she hesitates “_girlfriend,_ this time. Mom kind of already knew, but dad got caught off-guard. And then she came to my house this morning and wanted to walk to school together...”

“Oh, so _that's_ why you two were so late.”

“Yeah...”

Kyouko interjects, “C'mon, you'd've gotten here earlier if that's all. What _else_ happened?” Madoka instantly averts her gaze, telling Kyouko all she needs to know, “Oh, alright. Yeah, I get it.” she grins and finger-guns.

“Wow...” Sayaka contemplates “One month. You're here for one month and you've already done..._this_.”

“This?”

“Gotten a partner, had your first actual kiss, got all of your old friends back...what next, someone tries to recruit you for an idol group? Actually, I take that back, don't want you in one of _those_ relationships.”

“Eh?” Madoka tilts her head.

Sayaka clears her throat, “Aaaaanyways!”

“No, what?” Madoka asks.

“You don't wanna know.” Sayaka bluntly states. “Anyways...I'm kind of jealous. I was always just chasing after Kyousuke, so...” she trails off while everyone stares worriedly at her “...but, I can't believe it's with _her_. I just don't know what to think.”

“...Don't tell anyone about all this, okay?” Madoka asks.

“Right.” Sayaka agrees.

While Sayaka talks, Kyouko is staring a burning hole into the back of her head. Madoka notices, but can't really take the hint. Homura notices but doesn't say anything. Hitomi notices, but goddess knows what she's thinking. Actually, even _she_ doesn't know. Neither do the clara dolls who are staring at everyone through the window and surprisingly not committing arson.

Speaking of Homura, she decides it's about time she interrupts the three by waltzing over and asking, “Are these two bothering you, Madoka?”

“Eh?” Madoka looks confused “No, no! We're just talking.”

Homura hums and gently caresses her head, “That's good...” Madoka curls up timidly and tries to hide her embarrassment, but fails miserably. Homura then turns her attention to Kyouko, “You.”

“Me?” Kyouko points at herself.

“Yes, you.” she confirms, then gestures over to her little corner. Kyouko nods and follows Homura back to her desk.

Once there, Kyouko asks, “So how'd yesterday go?”

“Swimmingly.” Homura briefly concludes. She gets right to the point, “You held up your end. I don't intend to be indebted to anybody, so what do you want me to do?”

Kyouko chuckles, “Damn, you're too formal about this. Well, everything's fine right now. Just go 'n' be all lovey dovey with yer girl. Try to normalize it. I wanna get Sayaka thinking about the idea of a relationship between girls so she doesn't freak when I ask her out. Not like I want ya to play cupid or anything. Just...”

“Psy-ops?” Homura finishes.

“What?”

“Okay.”

Kyouko is left confused.

...And then they're completely silent. Awkwardly so. They just sort of stand around there for a bit, not sure what to say next. Homura because she's just terrible at social interactions and Kyouko because Homura is honestly a bit intimidating. But she eventually figures something out, “So...first kiss? How—?”

“Not talking about that.”

Kyouko pauses, about to argue, but thinking better of it. Instead, she comes up with another question, “And...yesterday?”

“Fine.”

Kyouko stares at her disappointedly, “You really don't want to talk, do you?”

“No.”

“...Gonna join us for lunch?”

“Yes.”

“And after school?”

“I have plans.”

“Her too?”

“Y—” Homura stops short of answering, then looks away.

Kyouko smirks, “Got it.” She gives a thumbs up, “Well, that's all. Seeya.”

Kyouko runs right back to Madoka's desk to find that Sayaka has sat back down, “Yo, what happened?”

“Ah, Sayaka needed to think about things for a little while.”

“I bet. She looked just completely _floored_.”

Madoka chuckles, “Maybe not _that_ much, but... I'm just glad she took it well.”

“Psh.” Kyouko scoffs “Like she wouldn't. She's not _that_ petty.” She then realizes that she just jinxed it. “I hope.” she adds to unjinx it. “So you got plans?”

“Well, I was going to sleep over at Homura's place this weekend...” Madoka mentions.

Kyouko chuckles, “I meant _today_, but that's...good to know.”

“Oh!” Madoka suddenly looks excited “Well, Homura told me on the way here that we should celebrate, so we were going to go out to an ice cream parlor. She said I could get aaaaanything I want!” She's positively jumping in her seat at the thought of what she's going to get, even drooling a little.

“Well now I'm jealous!” Kyouko throws her arms up and behind her head.

Madoka immediately droops down, still smiling, but more sheepishly, “Oh, sorry...”

Kyouko waves it off, “Nah, nah, it's fine. I can always get ice cream another day. Have fun with that, though...” she looks back at a clock “...Oh, better get back. Teach's comin'.” Madoka waves awkwardly, Kyouko waves back.

* * *

Throughout the rest of the school day, Madoka and Homura are both stuck stealing distracted glances at one another while Sayaka is left staring at her desk contemplatively, as if she were just given a terrible ultimatum. Kyouko can't help but notice, as she too is busy stealing glances. Not that hers are returned. And not that she stays awake the whole day anyways.

It's much the same during lunch, with Hitomi and Kyouko being stuck between Sayaka who doesn't want to socialize and Madoka and Homura who are feeding each other as usual. Nobody can quite remember at this point when exactly that started, but if one thing is for certain, it's that they'll be doing a lot more of it from now on.

Same with PE. Sayaka sits on the sidelines, Kyouko and Hitomi try to make small talk but fail miserably because they have little in common besides being friends with Sayaka, and Madoka is stuck ogling Homura as she continues to wipe everyone in the class out in every conceivable competition.

And then at the end of the day, even then, Sayaka is still playing the dumbstruck loner. The only people who leave together are Madoka and Homura, to whom Kyouko bids a specific farewell.

Then, Homura abruptly stops a minute or so into their walk. “Ah...” she sighs “Alone at last.”

Madoka stops curiously, only for Homura to suddenly pivot around, pull her into a hug, and then gently kiss her forehead. Madoka hums, leaning into her and rubbing her cheek against Homura's shoulder.

Madoka says, “I like this.”

Homura starts brushing her hair with one hand, “This?”

“I've been wanting you to be more loving for a long time... I wanted you to smile a lot. Whenever you did, it seemed like such a big thing. Now, you've been smiling a lot since the other day.”

“It's only been a month.” Homura reminds her.

“I know...” Madoka kisses her cheek “...I'm wondering if maybe it went a little too fast...”

Homura stiffens.

“...but as long as you're happy, I wouldn't have cared if you confessed to me the day I came here.”

Homura relaxes, “I feel the same. All I want is a world where you can be happy. If being with me, like this, is what does that...” she takes Madoka's hand and squeezes tightly, looking her in the eyes “then I won't have any regrets.”

Madoka's heart starts pounding, her entire body heating up enough to feel by touch as she whispers, “I love you...” and buries her face in Homura's chest.

Homura blushes and draws up a wide smile that she dares not let anyone else see. Besides Madoka. She gently pushes her a step back and caresses her cheek, staring her in the eyes silently for at least a full minute before remembering, “...Ah, we should probably get moving.”

Madoka suddenly remembers where they were going, “Oh! Right! I uh...” her entire face turns red “...forgot.”

Homura pats her on the back and hurries her along, so they walk hand-in-hand to a strange-looking ice cream parlor. Looks like some sort of stereotypically girlish castle, with weird lettering on the front that Madoka can't read a lick of. As they approach the glass double doors to the building, Usotsuki and Mie come forth from out of nowhere and hold the doors open as the couple pass.

On the inside, a sharply dressed butler-looking man waves at them and gestures to the right wall which is absolutely covered in every flavor and form of ice cream imaginable, and beside that every topping one could potentially think of. All in boxes with shovels like a candy store, rotating on cylinders.

“Help yourself.” Homura tells her, casually nudging Madoka towards the enormous selection. For a moment, she can't even believe her eyes, but is quickly lost in browsing. Homura just sits back and watches contently.

Madoka goes straight for a bowl, surprisingly. Homura figured she'd go for a cone; something cute. Or maybe a little cup. No, she just goes for a bigass bowl, the type you put an ice cream sundae in. And then she proceeds to go back and forth between different flavors: Good old vanilla, plenty of strawberry, a little milk ice cream in dollops along the edge...lavender? Homura didn't even know that was a flavor, but apparently it is. Quite a lot of it, honestly. Then she adds cherry, and then chocolate...and then come the fruits: Strawberries, blueberries, and maraschino cherries just stuck in there. Then she goes and starts stabbing it in various locations with wafer sticks and tiny cookies. Thank god(dess) it hasn't melted in the time she took to assemble it, somehow.

Then she comes running back to Homura with the amalgamation, grinning like a little kid in a...well, I guess that _is_ kind of what the situation is. Regardless, she's happy. Therefore, Homura is happy. They go and sit down at a little table clearly meant to be shared when Homura comments, “Can _you_ eat all of that?”

“O-Of course!” Madoka looks mildly offended, but it's clearly just play.

Homura pokes her arm, “But you're so _tiny_!” Madoka pouts, so she adds, “And _cute._” The pout turns into bashful shuffling. Seeing that she hasn't started yet, Homura then leans over and takes her spoon, picking up some of the vanilla and holding it to Madoka's lips.

Madoka seems to forget about that teasing instantly as she leans forward and swallows the scoop whole. She goes from a tiny frown to a nice, big smile as she leans back into the chair and savors it. “Wow...” she says, astonished “how was that so _good_? I've never had ice cream like this before!”

Homura just grins at her and offers another spoonful, this time of chocolate. Madoka happily obliges. Again and again, she just can't seem to stop. Then, she suddenly takes the spoon and tells Homura, “Hey...how about you try some?”

Homura hesitates. It's supposed to be Madoka's, entirely. Not meant for _her_. But at the same time, she looks absolutely insistent on it. Well, if that's what Madoka wants...

Too late. Madoka already took it, got a large dollop of strawberry, and has it pressed up against Homura's lips. She chuckles and slowly takes it in. “Mm...” she tries to speak with her mouth still full. It's not like she didn't expect it to be good. She specifically made it to be, after all. But somehow, it's even better than she made it. _“How curious.”_ she thinks.

Madoka waits happily for her to respond.

“It's good.” Homura finally says. Madoka giggles and wiggles around excitedly in her seat. She takes another of the strawberry, but this time adds one of the cherries on top and hovers that over, this time resting her head on her hand at the same time and staring longingly at her.

Homura doesn't notice it until she's already eaten the spoonful, but even then she has to think about why on earth Madoka would be staring at her like that. Did the eye bags finally clear up or something? Who knows?

Homura's utterly clueless expression kind of tips Madoka off, so she hints a bit more, “Strawberry.”

“Right.” Homura says. Silence ensues.

Madoka raises a brow at her, then takes a spoonful of the lavender ice cream and hands it to Homura, then opens her mouth. Homura obliges and glides it gently in, where Madoka swallows and clearly lets it just melt on her tongue, then exaggeratedly licks her lips.

Alas, Homura either didn't notice or doesn't know what to think. _“Seriously?”_ Madoka thinks. She decides to drop another hint, “...It matches your eyes, you know.”

“Ah?” Homura looks confused but acts otherwise. Poorly.

“The lavender ice cream. It's purple. Like your eyes.” Madoka says as she eats another spoonful of it in the same way.

“Oh.” Homura starts to blush faintly. Then she fumbles over her words a bit, “Yours, too.”

Madoka giggles. Homura starts to internally freak out, _“Wait, what!? ‘Yours too’!? Her eyes are pink, not violet! Idiot! Did she notice?”_

Of course she did, but she doesn't show it, so Homura doesn't assume so. Though, Madoka's getting a bit impatient at this point. “Homura, close your eyes for a second.” she commands.

Homura smirks while complying, shaking her head and chuckling, “You're not going to play any pranks on me, are y—?” Suddenly, she's kissed on the lips. But not just a normal one. No, she then feels the cold smoothness of ice cream alongside it. She had taken a bite of it and then kissed her. The feeling is utterly overwhelming, with the velvety sensation of both the rapidly melting ice cream and her tongue doubling one another over and making an absolute mess. It would honestly be a bit gross if not for the fact that it's Madoka.

Homura swallows it all, though. Not that she has a choice. And when Madoka parts, Homura comments after a few stunned seconds, “...Wow. That was... Where did you _learn_ that?”

Madoka starts to blush as she sits back down, “Uh...nowhere. I just thought about it suddenly, and...” she looks down as if she's ashamed and starts to mumble.

Meanwhile, Homura half-covers her face and smiles at her, “It's okay. If you want to do anything, just ask.”

Madoka looks back up, grinning uncontrollably, “O-Okay. So...” She sheepishly grabs the cookie she stuck in the amalgamation and starts chewing on it.

Homura giggles, “You were so bold just now, what happened?” She rests her head on the table sideways and stares at her.

Madoka raises her shoulders and looks to the side, “I can't always do things like that...”

Homura smiles at her, humming. Suddenly she has a separate spoon in her hand which she dips into the dish and floats towards Madoka. “Cute.”

Madoka bites down on it and quickly swallows, “Really?”

“You already know I think that.” Homura claims, repeating the action.

Madoka takes in whatever she's given, “Already?”

“The letters I sent you. Remember?”

Madoka looks up for a second to remember each individual one, “Oh yeah... I still have all of them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Are you...still going to make those?”

“Why do that when I can just tell you?”

“Ah...” Madoka pauses to swallow another one “That makes sense. But it was...” she looks away for a second “...it was cute, too.”

Homura stops for a moment, as if she can't parse what Madoka just said. Her? Cute? Surely that's only something Madoka would think. Only her.

Madoka snaps her out of her brief daze, “Homura?”

“Ah, yes?”

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“The letters. Every day. You didn't miss a single one.”

Homura chuckles, “I was _very_ diligent.”

Madoka hums, “...So, when did you start liking me that much?”

Without any hesitation, and without a single thought as to how creepy it might sound, she answers, “As soon as I saw you.” in the softest, most gentle tone she can muster, effortlessly such that it must be natural.

Madoka can tell just from that much information that whatever that voice just was had some of her truest feelings coming forth and only just stopping short of the finish line, so to speak. She finds herself shuffling around in her seat and averting her gaze, her entire face turning pink for some reason. “You mean...love at first sight?” she asks with a wavering voice.

Homura sits back up in her seat, “Something like that.”

“When...” Madoka starts to reminisce “When you hugged me in the hallway, was that...?”

Homura looks to the side, nodding to herself, “I was...” She pauses. What the hell _was_ she doing? Well, besides suppressing Madoka's memories. What is a plausible lie? Or, it doesn't necessarily need to be a lie, but at least a half-truth. Something that's true but not necessarily dangerous to tell her. She ends up deciding that if she admits something embarrassing, it would sound more believable. After all, why would anyone tell something like that about themselves if it weren't true? Well, that they could plausibly imagine, anyways. Her final answer is, “I was just having a hard time holding myself back. It's been a long time since I felt that sort of way, and I was just a bit...” she gulps “..._lonely_, so...”

Madoka stares for a moment, “...You couldn't help it?”

“Yes.” Homura looks away.

Madoka looks like she isn't going to believe it for a second. But then she just giggles and says, “Wow...so you were always like this? I was worried you were just being nice because you liked me, but you really _are_ a good girl.” Homura's heart skips a beat when she says that. “Everyone really has a bad impression of you, don't they?” Madoka finishes.

Homura gulps and looks back at her, “I guess. I don't really care. I just want you to be happy.”

“And I want _you_ to be.” Madoka fires back. They both end up embarrassing each other and themselves with those comments, even though there's nobody else around besides that metaphorical cardboard cutout of a cashier.

By the time they're done doting over each other, Homura goes back to try and finish the dish of ice cream, only to find that it's all either eaten or melted aside from the toppings. “Whoops.” she says.

Madoka smiles, “It's okay. You can have the rest.”

“No, you.” Homura pushes it over to her with both spoons.

Madoka raises an eyebrow, then pushes it back, “No, _you_.”

“You're too kind. Come on, eat. You need to.” Homura pushes it back.

“You need to more! You're way skinnier than me!” Madoka pushes it back.

“But this is too good for me, and besides, it was yours.”

“But...!” Madoka is about to argue, but thinks better of it. She suddenly realizes that there's no talking her down from this, as usual. She just smiles and says, “You're so stubborn...” before sitting back down and finishing off all of the fruits and other toppings she covered the ice cream with. The entire time, Homura just stares at her happily. It wipes away all of her self-imposed guilt. By the time she's done, Homura's already gotten up and prepared to escort her out, so she stands and hugs her.

“Good?” Homura asks.

“Mm,” Madoka hums “but what about—?”

“Don't worry.” Homura insists. “Whatever it is, don't worry. Just leave it here, they'll take care of it.”

Madoka looks back down at their table, then back up at her, still smiling, and nods. Homura rubs her head and slowly walks her out. They managed to spend so much time in there that it's somehow already late in the afternoon. Madoka looks around her as they step out of the building, admiring the orange-tinted sky, “Wow, it's already this late... How did that happen?”

Homura practically ignores the question, “Do you need to get home?”

Madoka looks down for a moment, “...Yeah. I think so.”

“I'll walk you.” Homura continues to pet her.

“Okay.” Madoka says while nuzzling up to her.

They go on their way, passing by roads full of people making their way back home from work or heading to bars and such to socialize, both either staring ahead, up at the sky, or stealing glances at each other the whole time. Once they're away from the prying eyes of people giving them confused looks and more into the suburbs, Madoka suddenly stops.

She turns her head to the side at Homura, and she looks back at her. “Homura?” she asks.

“Yes?” Homura whispers.

Madoka's breathing becomes less steady as she reaches up and tilts her head back, grasping onto Homura's shoulders and parting her lips. Homura obliges, holding her by the back of the head and her waist, pulling her into another deep kiss. She giggles a little as it drags on, purely because of Madoka just not letting go for anything. Eventually, Homura has to push her away gently as she swallows and gasps, “Madoka...!”

Madoka does the same, but then immediately tries to do it again. Homura has to hold her back, “Madoka, wait...”

Madoka looks disappointed, “Eh? Homura?”

Homura chuckles, “Come on, I know it's fun, but you have to save it or it'll get boring. You wouldn't want to eat cake every day, right? You would get sick of it and not want to eat it again.”

“But...!” Madoka tries to argue as she jumps up and down, trying to kiss her again.

Homura holds her by the shoulders and rubs them, “Madoka, stop. It's okay. We have tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and all of the others for years to come. We have all of the time in the world, okay? You don't have to get it all out at once.”

Madoka doesn't look convinced, “Don't... Don't you want to do it too?”

Homura sighs, “I do. There's nothing I want more right now than that. But I also want that sort of thing to stay special. So...” she starts to caress her cheek “...so very special. Okay?”

Madoka nods along, holding and rubbing her hand as they continue walking, now holding each other even more closely.

And finally, when Homura gets her back home, she stops at the front gate and tells her, “_Now_ you can do it.”

Madoka leaps onto the opportunity and nearly knocks her over with the force of her hug and sequential kiss.

She holds it for at least the next half minute before letting go, lead to Homura commenting, “Ah, it's...addicting, isn't it?” while laughing.

“Yeah.” Madoka agrees, looking directly into her eyes with an unbearable longing. “Do you wanna come in? We can lie in bed together.”

Homura hesitantly declines, “No, no. Let's save that for this weekend.”

Madoka looks down, “Oh...” But then back up as soon as Homura's about to console her, “Well, I guess it just means we're looking forward to more, right? I can't wait.”

Homura nods, but doesn't say anything.

“Well...see you tomorrow, Homura.” Madoka lets go and gives her a small wave.

Homura does the same, “See you.”

They sort of linger. Madoka eventually adds, “I love you.”

Homura pets her head again, “You too.”

“...”

“...”

Suddenly, they hear a car horn honking at them, followed by a voice which is clearly Junko's calling out, “Hey lovebirds, you're in the driveway!”

They both turn red as strawberries and quickly run out of the way. Junko drives on in while looking out at them and giving a wink, causing Madoka to bury her face in Homura's chest. Homura giggles and hugs her tightly, “Madoka, you better go. I bet dinner's going to be ready soon.”

“Yeah. Make sure you eat well too, okay?” Madoka makes her promise. Homura nods even though she has no intent on following through, otherwise. Finally, they manage to part ways without one of them running right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My month-long break has drawn to a close. Don't know if I'll be able to keep up with a consistent upload schedule, but I'll sure as hell try. Attempting to come up with a good way to make kyousaya organically happen is going to put some speedbumps in there since I'm not really all that familiar with the ship, but nothing a few doujinshi can't fix.


	23. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka spends the night at Homura's house on a lazy weekend.

“Alright, is that it?” Madoka's dad asks as they're about to head out the door. Madoka is carrying a tote bag filled with god knows what, but it's fairly bulky. Also dressed incredibly casually, with just a pink hoodie and shorts.

“Yup!” she answers.

“Have your toothbrush?”

“Yeah.”  
  
“Sure you're not forgetting anything?”

“Yes, papa.”

“Want to double-check?”

She rolls her eyes, but he just laughs it off, “Alright, I guess it's time to go. Until Sunday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, let's go.” he says, then looks down at Tatsuya, “Ready, little guy?”

The kid blabbers nonsensically at him. He takes it as a yes. They all go and get into his car, separate from Junko's, but look exactly the same aside form the paint: navy blue. The ride to the apartment complex that Homura lives in is quiet, anticipatory, with only the ambient sounds of the car and Madoka bouncing in her seat to accompany them. By the time they arrive, she's already about to just jump out of the car. But she waits, patiently. Her dad gets out first, then she does; he waves goodbye and tells her, “Have fun!”

She waves back and dashes for the entrance without a care in the world. He waits until she's out of sight before getting back in and leaving.

The doorbell rings. Homura answers the door, dressed contrastingly in her dollish mourning dress. She doesn't leap for joy, nor shout, nor even immediately respond to Madoka's greeting. Instead, she just gently smiles and takes her hand, leading her inside.

There are a million different ways Madoka had thought Homura's apartment would look like. Warm and cozy? Sure, she likes that little cafe after all. Maybe it would have a jazzy vibe. Cutesy, like hers? Maybe, given she enjoyed being there so much. Some goth/punk thing? Very her style. She wouldn't have been surprised if she turned out to be a massive otaku. Hell, maybe it would just look like a normal apartment, like Sayaka's. The thought of it being regal like Mami's wouldn't have been a stretch either. But this?

This is just depressing. She shows as much on her face the moment she gets a good look at the cold, blue and white-tinted surroundings that look sterile enough to fit comfortably in a hospital. The lack of lighting just exacerbates its bleakness. She tries to hide her opinion with a forced smile and saying, “It's...clean!” but Homura sees right through that. Not that it's difficult.

The only even remotely non-depressing things in the room are her game console and the stuffed rabbit thing Madoka got her. She grins at it for a second.

“So...” Homura tries to coax her into talking more.

“...Oh!” Madoka suddenly snaps out of her daze. “Right. How uh...was your day?”

Homura giggles quietly, “You were talking to me all day at school.”

Madoka swings from side to side with both hands behind her back, “Ah, well... Uh...”

Homura smiles, brushes her hair back, then stretches her arms out, “Come here.”

Madoka doesn't hesitate. She tackles Homura into a hug, which is quickly and easily returned. They both sigh and linger for a few minutes, just holding each other, savoring the feeling.

“That's really pretty.” Madoka comments.

“And that's really cute.” Homura compliments back “So what do you want to do first? We still have a little while before dinner.”

Madoka hums, “Mmm... What are we having?”

Homura kisses her on the forehead, “Anything your heart desires.”

Madoka hums again, this time in deep thought. For a while, really. She can't decide between delivery and homemade. Nor who should cook if they choose the latter. On one hand, having food delivered during a sleepover is the pinnacle of cool and good times. On the other, homemade is much more romantic, and as far as she's concerned, this is a date.

“Madoka?”

She remembers they were talking, “Mm? Oh. I'll think about it. Let's just sit down for now.”

Homura nods and takes her hand, leading her to the couch where she suddenly pulls out a blanket from seemingly nowhere and wraps it around the both of them while they sit down and curl up to each other. “Like this?” Homura asks.

“Yeah. This is nice.” she responds, pushing her cheek against Homura's. She grins and nuzzles her back, and they repeat once more before giggling to each other.

Homura sighs, “You know, I never thought I would be able to do something like this. Especially not with y— someone like _you_.”

Madoka hums, “Homura, you're really a good person, aren't you?”

Homura bites her lip, “I...don't know about that.”

Madoka shakes her head just barely, “I know you are. When we first met, I was kind of scared at first. But I still wanted to know more about you because it seemed like you were holding something in. I know everyone thinks you're scary and unapproachable; it must have been really lonely to just live like that. But now I know you're good.”

“I'm not.” Homura murmurs off to the side.

“You are.” Madoka insists. “That's one of the reasons I love you. You're kind. I can tell you're always thinking about other people, even if you neglect yourself.”

“Neglect?”

Madoka clings to her tightly, “You always look so tired and stressed, but you act like you have it all together. I can't help but worry. I used to not know why, but when you smile, I can't help but do it too. It feels like I just grew wings and started flying. It used to be so rare. But now you do it a lot more.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Even if you don't realize it, it seems like whenever you look at me, you just automatically smile. I can't help but feel overjoyed when that happens. ...You're the kindest person I know, even if you don't believe that. I can tell you're really strong, but you always act humble. And there's more I can't really describe right now, but I love you because of all of that and more.”

Homura can't help but go red from all of the compliments, and has to retort, “But that's you.”

Madoka looks confused.

“You're talking about yourself. Those are all of the things I love _you_ for.”

Madoka goes red to her ears while retaining that look of befuddlement, while they look each other in the eyes. Moments later, she buries her face into Homura's shoulder and gets a tight hug in turn.

They silently sit there and bask in each other for a time, until Homura eventually breaks the silence after they share a lingering kiss, “...I've been wondering.”

“Hm?” Madoka hums as she curls into her lap.

“Is this too fast? It's only been a month, but we're already dating. I always thought it would be a slower buildup.”

Madoka giggles unintentionally, “It's fine, Homura. I would rather we start as soon as possible if it's going to happen anyways. And the way I felt about you, and what I know now...” she trails off a bit “...but even though it's only been a month, it feels like I've known you forever. It's weird, but I don't mind.”

Homura tenses up and remains silent for fear of triggering something. Instead, she just gently squeezes Madoka's hand, interlocking their fingers.

“So...” Madoka continues slowly “I don't know. Maybe it would have been nice to just keep things normal for a while. But I think I would just end up worrying all of the time about whether you felt the same or not. When that guy told me to give you that letter a while back, I was panicking and didn't know why. I guess in hindsight it makes sense, but I don't want to feel like that all of the time. I think what I'm trying to say is...” she pauses for a moment “...It might be a bit quick, but I think that's a good thing. Now if we really do stay together forever, it'll just be forever and a little longer.”

Homura can feel her face beginning to heat up and her eyes water from that whole speech of sorts. Madoka catches on and wipes away what little there is before it starts up more, then silently kisses her on the cheek and buries herself deeper into the blanket.

Of course, that only works for a second. Homura ends up crying anyways. Not a lot, just enough to be noticeable. To get her mind off of it, Madoka comments, “...Being in this blanket makes me feel like a little kid again!”

Homura breaks out of her tearful trance, “Huh?”

“Do you have a bigger one?”

“What?”

“A blanket.”

Homura shakes her head to clear out her lingering thoughts, “Oh. Oh, yes, hold on.”

She gets up, leaving Madoka to roll herself up in the blanket like a fluffy pink burrito. Homura then goes over to her bed, reaches under, and pulls an enormous blanket out that Madoka swears wasn't there before.

She also pulls out one of the clara dolls, who is clinging to the blanket. A tall one with blonde hair and a tiny hat. She looks around at the two. Homura tries to shake her off, but she doesn't let go. “Namake.” she says. “Let go.”

Namake does not let go. Instead, she just frowns at her.

“Let go!” Homura shouts, grabbing two corners of the blanket and trying to shake her off again, to no avail.

Madoka stares at them curiously, “...Is that one of your cousins?”

Homura jumps a bit, then looks back at her, “Uh. Er, sure. Yes, one of them.”

Namake then looks over at Madoka, literally turns its frown upside down, lets go, and prances out of the apartment while laughing and making fun of Homura. She ignores it, of course.

Silently, Homura shows off the blanket and flaps it about with a grin on her face. Madoka giggles, “Yeah, that's good. What about some chairs?”

“Of course.” Homura says, setting the blanket down on her bed and going into the kitchen where she pulls out four chairs that Madoka swears weren't there before.

“Uh...” Madoka stops to think about for a second, but just gives up and dismisses the oddity. “That's good. Pillows?”

Homura chuckles, “Of course. Anything else, princess?”

Madoka blushes slightly and chuckles back, “Ah, another blanket? I think that's it.”

Homura rolls her eyes fondly, still smiling, and pulls all of the requested items out from the dark space under her bed, then puts them on top of it. By the time she's done, Madoka has unfurled herself from the blanket on the couch and gotten up to grab her by the shoulders. “Okay! Now...go in the bathroom for a bit.”

“What?”

“Just gooooo!” Madoka whines.

Homura sighs and decides to just go along with it, “Okay, okay. Just tell me when to come out.”

Madoka smiles at her reassuringly. That's somehow enough to put her at ease. Of course, she then proceeds to spend the next maybe ten minutes just waiting in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror and correcting a few blemishes. Just touching up a little. Decides it would be a good time to take a breath mint just in case. A little bit later, Madoka finally calls her out.

“Alright, what did you do?” Homura asks as she comes out only to find Madoka standing in front of some massive blanket fort she set up across the room, stretching from the edge of Homura's bed, over the TV, and all the way to the furthest chair. Homura starts to wonder how big she actually made that blanket. Didn't intend for it to be THIS big, but whatever.

As Madoka stands there with her arms up, looking utterly elated at her accomplishment, Homura can't help but sigh and close in to hug her, “Madoka, that's _adorable_.” Madoka hugs back eagerly, then pecks her on the cheek and gets a slow, gentle kiss as a reward. “So what do you want to do in here?” Homura asks.

“Mmm...” Madoka hums shyly as she starts climbing under and into the tent, trying to drag Homura with her.

Homura can't quite help but follow. Her apartment was initially dark, but this just adds a whole new layer to it. It's also not quite claustrophobic despite being cramped, but somehow cozy. As if being wrapped in an enormous hug. Madoka's strung a bunch of pillows and that other blanket onto the floor to act as padding, making it surprisingly comfortable with the addition of the carpet underneath. Homura takes a minute to adjust to the feeling and just soak it all in, fumbling about in the slight darkness to locate everything. The only thing she can truly feel, however, is Madoka.

“Isn't it nice?” she asks.

Homura pauses for a second before she answers, “Yes, it's nice. This is very...comfortable.”

Madoka giggles and pounces on top of her for an enthusiastic bear hug, which Homura readily accepts. However, she then comments, “...But it's a bit dark. Could you wait here for a second?”

Madoka jumps off of her, “O-Oh! Yeah!”

Silently, Homura crawls out and goes to retrieve something. She's hardly gone long enough to even give the idea of what she's getting some thought. And when she dives back under, she asks, “Ready?”

“For what?”

Pseudo-dramatically, Homura narrates, “And God said, _‘Let there be light!’_” Just then, a little disco ball sat between them lights up and douses the inside of their fort with myriad colors.

Madoka clearly gasps upon seeing it, even looking taken aback by its existence. “That's...!” she tries to speak, but gets interrupted by a sudden meow.

Homura looks to the side, “Amy? Where have you been?”

The black cat meows again, its body sparsely illuminated by the glowing ball as it rubs up against Homura's thigh and then Madoka's. They both giggle and run their hands along its back.

“I didn't know you had a cat!” Madoka says.

“I just adopted her a couple of days ago.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Madoka looks down at the cat as she pets it. She can't help but ponder how unexplainably cute that is. Eventually, their hands meet and slowly interlock. They look at each other over the glowing ball, just sort of staring, taking in the atmosphere as they come closer. Their other hands meet as if by fate, and come within an inch of each other before realizing what they're doing. For a moment, Homura gets shy and stops, but only long enough to pull out her phone and put some nice, quiet, low-fidelity music on. Then they're right back to it, quickly going in for another long, lingering kiss which is tragically broken short of one losing breath by the cat intervening because it's greedy for more affection. They break away for a moment to accommodate it, but then quickly go back to staring longingly at each other.

Without thinking, Madoka whispers, “You're so beautiful...”

Homura averts her gaze and flips her hair back, “You... You too...”

Madoka only just then realizes she said it, as usual, but just goes with it, “...This is nice.”

“Yeah.” Homura says as she grips her arm. “So have you decided yet?”

Madoka cocks her head, “Hm?”

Homura chuckles, “Food. Want me to make something?”

“Oh!” Madoka suddenly remembers. She had totally forgotten to even think about it. That said, the answer seems awfully obvious now. “Uh... Let's just get pizza.”

“What kind?”

She waves it off, “Oh, whatever you want.”

“It's okay, Madoka. I'll be fine with what you like.”

“No, no, just get something _you_ like.”

Homura starts to stutter, “I-I mean, I'm not actually that hungry. So it would be better if we got something you want.”

“Well, uh...” Madoka suddenly has trouble answering “...But, you already don't eat a lot, so I want to get something you _will_ eat.” A moment later, she apologizes, “N-Not that I don't like your figure, I'm just a little worried about your health.”

Homura grins, “I'm glad. But really, it's okay. And...I guess it's just more of me for you to love, right?”

Madoka finally relents as she curls up into a ball and blushes, “Just...something basic.”

“Basic?” Homura asks as she draws closer.

“Just cheese...” Madoka whispers, trying to not look at her.

Homura crawls over and hugs her while pecking her cheek, “Okay. Come here...”

Despite her act, Madoka still eagerly leans into her and lets herself be embraced. Homura pauses the music for a bit to order. It doesn't take long, and she goes right back to the cuddling afterwards. A minute or so later, she asks, “So what do you want to do?”

“Hm?” Madoka looks up to her.

“We've got all day. There's plenty here.”

“What about...” Madoka thinks for a minute “...games? What do you have?”

Homura was hoping she wouldn't say that, “Ah, that's... I don't have many.”

“How many?”

Homura looks away, “Three.”

“Any we can play together?”

“Just one.” Homura pauses. Madoka smiles in response, which makes her hesitate, but she adds nonetheless, “But...I'm not really feeling like it.”

Despite Homura's self-guilting, Madoka doesn't seem all too bothered by it. “Oh, that's okay.” she says “What about...oh!” she suddenly jolts up “A movie! We can cuddle and eat pizza and watch a movie in here!”

Homura smiles, “That sounds nice. What kind?”

“Uh...” Madoka stops in her tracks. Now that she thinks about it, she doesn't really know about anything they could watch. Maybe a romance movie would be fitting, but there aren't really any that have two women. And she might think it's weird if they watch some kind of anime together, and those aren't great on that point either. And then...how would they watch it in the tent? Just drag the TV under there? She doesn't want to trouble Homura with that. This was already a lot, even if she likes it.

“Madoka?” Homura cocks her head sideways.

“One second...” Madoka insists, continuing to ponder. Maybe they could just watch videos on the internet? That could be nice, but it's a bit of a pain to constantly hold up a phone like that. Then she gets an idea. “...Is there any way we can play videos on the TV? Like, from a phone?”

Homura thinks for a moment. She doesn't actually have anything like that, but she remembers a commercial she saw for something like that, a week ago. “Yes, actually.” she says anyways. “Just...let me go do something first.”

“Eh? Okay...” Madoka says reluctantly. Homura then runs out the door in a hurry, with a couple of those kids following from behind. They came out of the bathroom, now that she thinks about it. Out of curiosity, she inspects it to make sure there aren't any still hiding in there.

Luckily, none show themselves. In all honesty, they're still a bit creepy to just be hiding around like that. Also luckily, she isn't left alone for more than a minute. She didn't hear Homura actually come in, but she was also spacing out in the tent, so that kind of makes sense. But regardless, she's back and says in a sing-songy tone, “Ma-do-ka, I'm back. Move back a bit.”

“O-Oh.” Madoka says, jumping slightly at her sudden appearance. As soon as she moves back, Homura comes crawling in with the entire television, setting it up near the entrance with some tiny device attached to the bottom. “Is that...?” Madoka starts to ask, but doesn't know what to call it.

“This will let us play videos. Let me see your phone, I'll...” she trails off as Madoka automatically hands it over. After fiddling with it for a second, she hands it right back. It takes a little while to get the device working, but they eventually get it and settle on watching videos of cats acting weird while they curl up in a blanket together and wait for their food to come. The entire time, Homura only giggles a few times, and is otherwise just sitting and gently smiling, leaning on Madoka. At some point, Amy decides to take a nap in their shared laps.

It doesn't take long before their peaceful purgatory is interrupted by a ring of the doorbell. Homura perks up quickly and says she'll get it. Cue her trying to figure out how to set things up so that the pillows and blankets don't get covered in grease, suddenly realizing that it may not have been a great idea to go with pizza after all. They end up clearing a larger spot in front of the TV and getting some plates, as well as copiously using napkins.

Homura manages to somehow get lost among the vibe, not even noticing when Madoka just stops watching the videos they put on and instead staring at her. At the end of one compilation, she pauses it and tells her, “This is nice.”

“I'm glad. As long as you like it.” Homura responds. She doesn't look away initially, but when she does, she gets caught off-guard by the mildly sultry look Madoka is giving her and turns a rosy red.

“I used to work hard to just get you to smile. But now, you're even laughing.” she speaks softly, slowly sitting up. “All I wanted was to see you happy. I never thought I would get to experience these sorts of things.”

Homura pats and rubs her back softly, “That's all I want for you, too.”

Madoka then grins, “And...your laugh is really cute.”

Homura's face contorts into a mostly indescribable expression from sheer embarrassment, but it still manages to be “cute” to Madoka, who chuckles when it happens. She then notices Amy stealing a slice of pizza and barely reacts to it. Not like they could eat all of that alone, anyways. She gets the idea for another comment, “...I also didn't expect you to be a cat person.”

As if she knows she's being talked about, Amy meows. Homura, who is still reeling from the previous compliment, is barely able to parse what she was just told, “Uh...what?”

That doesn't stop Madoka from continuing, “Now that I think about it, you kind of act like one. Always acting really cool and distant...until that _one person_ comes along, and then it's belly up.” She smirks and caresses Homura's stomach, which causes her to shiver. “You're moody sometimes and don't like to be touched unless it's me. You're always doing what you want, but not in a bad way. And if I look closely, you kind of look like one too.”

She breezes her hand across Homura's cheek and makes her flinch slightly, then takes it into her grasp. “...Hold on...” she says as she stares right at her for a minute, imagining what she would look like with cat ears. The thought makes her go from that serious, seductive type look to childish giggling. “You would look really cute with those on!” she says.

Homura is utterly baffled, but goes along with it, “Uh...yeah. Maybe sometime.” She tries to look away but ends up darting her eyes back to Madoka every couple of seconds.

Madoka's hand begins to wander, going from Homura's cheek down to her shoulder, then along her arm, and finally along her sides when she suddenly spasms and giggles. Their cheeks both turn bright red at the same time.

“W-Wait...” Homura tries to stop her, but it's too late. Madoka wordlessly attacks her sides and starts tickling her in every place she can get away with for the next minute, with Homura trying her best to not start yelping and laughing aloud, but doing a piss poor job at it.

“So you're weak here?” she teases, getting at her waist.

Homura twists and turns, “No! Wait, Madoka!” But with all of the hysterics, it doesn't sound particularly genuine.

“What about here?” Madoka asks, trying her feet and getting a positive response. Then she repeats under her arms, and that works too. “Geez, you're so ticklish! How come I never knew about this?” She starts kissing her on the side of her neck and tries to avoid getting accidentally hit by the girl flailing around in her grasp right now.

And out of curiosity, she lets up a bit and starts to hover her hand around Homura's thighs. She's still trying to catch her breath. But the reaction madoka gets from just gently rubbing her leg is only half that same ticklish fit. The other half is what she could swear was a _very_ suggestive gasp. She retracts her hand in shock only after Homura suddenly locks her entire body up and shivers.

The atmosphere quickly becomes awkward. Homura doesn't exactly look upset, more tired, but Madoka can't help but be anxious. So she prods, “Uh... Homura?”

Homura practically jumps up to excuse herself, “...I need to use the bathroom.”

“Okay.” Madoka says as she watches her climb out in a hurry. She wanted to say more, but figured it could wait. _“Did I do something wrong? Was that too much?” _she wonders. The reaction leaves her in such an anxious state that she's unable to even continue watching videos for a while, and ends up just figuratively sitting on her hands for at least half an hour before she realizes how much time has passed. By then, Homura still hasn't come out.

So she approaches the door and gently knocks on it, “Uh, Homura? You've been in there for a while. You okay?”

It takes a second for Homura to answer, “Ah— Yes, I'm fine. One second.”

And a second it takes. More or less. She comes out smelling of rosy soap and carrying a bit of a glow. Madoka tries to say something, but Homura interrupts, “Sorry about that. What were we doing, again?”

Madoka somehow just forgets what she was about to say. And what she wanted to do in the first place. Or everything, really. Her entire mind just gets absorbed by Homura's presence. In the end, she just says, “...I think I just want to cuddle for a while.”

Homura nods and gently holds her, “Alright. Maybe we can play a little game, later. I also have some cheesecake in the fridge for dessert.”

Madoka rests her head on Homura's shoulder, “That sounds nice. But let's just...you know.”

Homura doesn't need to say anything else. They just go back into their makeshift tent and curl up like two caterpillars trying to fit into the same chrysalis. They spend the rest of the day until nightfall just sharing their favorite songs, making small-talk, and lazing about. They did eventually have dessert, but only after they realized they had forgotten about it completely, and by then it was almost midnight. At some point, they changed into their nightgowns.

But after all of that, Madoka is left lying down in the relative darkness saying, “Wow, it's already almost time for bed, isn't it? We just spent all day lying around.”

“Didn't you like it?” Homura asks.

“Of course!” Madoka jumps up. “Of course. I love every second I spend with you. I just feel like I forgot to do something. Or that we kind of wasted our time.”

Homura sits up and pets her, “You were worried about rushing things, right?”

“Well...”

“Now you don't want to take them too slow. Don't worry about it. Madoka, we have years and years to do whatever you want.”

“We.”

“We?”

Madoka smiles, “Whatever  _we_ want. I want to do things you like too, Homura.”

Homura shakes her head, “And I like doing whatever you like doing.”

Madoka pouts, “Homura... Nobody is that perfect together. Don't be shy; you don't have to like everything I do.”

Homura giggles, “Ah, that's so you.”

“What?” Madoka looks puzzled.

Homura just lunges forward and hugs her tightly, “It's okay. Just forget I said anything. Just know that I love you. Besides, we should be going to bed.”

Madoka chuckles, “We've been in bed  _all day._ ”

Homura nuzzles her neck, “And now we're going to sleep. Today is a lazy day, so let's embrace it and be lazy.”

“Well...” Madoka sighs “...alright.” And then she suddenly remembers, “Oh! I almost forgot!”

“Hm?” Homura prepares to ask what but gets cut off by Madoka rushing out of the tent.

When she comes back in, she's carrying not just the big, blue stuffed animal that she got Homura a while back, but also hers which is pink. The exact same one, just in different colors. “Surprise!” she says, holding them both together as if they're hugging.

Homura is speechless. Madoka can't see it, but a dribble of tears start to seep down her cheek. She takes her own when Madoka shoves it into her grasp, then watches as Madoka curls up with hers under the (additional) blanket. So many blankets. Homura silently does the same. They both lie there for a minute, just staring into each others' eyes, hugging their plushes until Madoka finally can't take the tension anymore. She slides hers down a bit, then pushes Homura's down so the two of them can hold each other while they finally lock lips. It almost seems like it doesn't happen, or that it passes in a second and not over a minute like it actually lasted for. This close to each other, they don't really need the plushes anymore, and let those things stay between their legs.

Homura is surprisingly the first one of them to fall asleep. And in the middle of their make-out session no less. Madoka can't quite understand how that happens, but just accepts it as a Homura thing. For a moment, she entertains some dirty thoughts that enter her mind on a whim, but she resists her urges long enough to fall asleep with the thought of  _“Oh god, what's wrong with me? Stop it, brain!”_ But all's well that ends well. They would get there eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering where I disappeared to over the past month, blame Monster Hunter. Damn game's too addicting.

**Author's Note:**

> For more of my work and updates when they occur, visit my Reddit page at Reddit.com/r/LucifinaLaurel
> 
> Also, I do commissions.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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